


Why Was Yussa Allowed to Keep the Happy Fun Ball again?

by DraketheDragon



Category: Critical Role (Web Series), Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: All he wants is new spells, Essek is disabled, Halas is still stuck in a gem, I feel so bad for Halas, I lied, M/M, Making up spells is hard, Parasol Essek, Rare Pair, Revenge of the Happy Fun Ball, Sibling dynamics are the best, Tags might change, These two haven't interacted yet, Yussa and Essek might be intellegent, Yussa is a gold dragon, Yussa is also a disaster gay, a couple years after The Mighty Nien save the world, and these wizards won't stop flirting, but Wensforth holds the braincell, but sun and moon aesthetic, someone give him a medal, the stuff that goblin puts up with, thought that might be important, wizard hijinks, yussa has long hair
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-01-25 06:14:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 48,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21351574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DraketheDragon/pseuds/DraketheDragon
Summary: Caleb’s blush faded, and any trace of slump disappeared. “A couple of weeks ago I sent Yussa a letter like yours. When I didn’t get a response, Jester messaged him. What that didn’t get a response, I headed over there myself, only to find that Yussa isn’t taking any audiences. I believe he may be in some trouble.”“So? He is a wizard of some capabilities.”Caleb winced. “Ja, but Yussa is also the one who’s keeping watch of Halas’s imprisonment. He also has the Happy Fun Ball, sorry, the Archmage Bane. Either of them would be a problem, but Yussa has both and has already shown that he doesn’t make the best decisions with these items.”Otherwise known as Essek is a disaster gay, just really good at hiding it, Yussa is trying so hard not to get attached to all the mortals, Halas is eternally screaming in his ruby, and there is probably a plot
Relationships: Essek Thelyss & Caleb Widogast, Past Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast, The Mighty Nein & Essek Thelyss, Yussa Errenis/Essek Thelyss
Comments: 70
Kudos: 280





	1. Chapter Eins

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my fandom of eins.

Essek Thelyss was not, in fact, floating. He was sitting, chin resting on interlocked fingers, and staring at the paper in front of him. An offer that sat so tempting on his desk. It was formal, almost too formal, the writing stiff and precise, but Essek considered that better than an excitable tiefling chattering in his ear. Still, he almost missed that movement of magic, the voice spilling out news, good or bad, struggling with the twenty-five word limit. It had been a while since he’d gotten a message from Jester.

Had gotten a message from any of them, really. The heroes of the Dynasty, the heroes of the world, The Mighty Nein.

But now, apparently, that silence was broken.

There was a knock at the door, and Essek shook himself out of his contemplation. He looked up, to where his door was half open, one of his guards leaning in. “A man, to see you sir. A Caleb Widogast.”

Caleb. A thousand feelings called up by that name, many old, many sweet, but all in the past.

“Let him in.” Essek pushed down whatever emotion was trying to claw its way up his throat, and resisted the temptation to smooth his hair. It had been a while since Caleb had called, they’d both been too busy. And whatever they had been, could have been, had fizzled out under the pressure of work.

The guard stepped aside, and Caleb stepped in. He looked good, healthy. His hair shown, his face was freshly shaved, and his clothes, though not of Xhorhassian make, fit well. “Hello Essek,” Caleb gave the barest hint of a smile. “You look good.”

Essek swallowed. “So do you.”

“Danke. Have you read my letter yet?”

“Yes I have, it is an interesting proposition.”

“What do you think?”

“I think that you’re here to discuss something other than this letter.”

Caleb gave a slight cough and shifted slightly. “Well, ja.” He sighed, “May I sit?”

“Go ahead.”

Caleb sat in one of the many chairs in Essek’s little office and leaned forward intently, blue eyes burning. “I need your help with something. Please.”

“I am very busy,” Essek said the words, but he could already feel his resolve weakening. It was those blue eyes, hard to resist.

Caleb smiled, “I know, and I hate to impose.” He took a deep breath and drew himself up. “Do you remember Yussa Errenis? The wizard from Nicodranas?”

“Yes.” He hadn’t met him, but he’d seen him. Just a glance of gold robes and tanned skin. He knew enough to know that Yussa was a powerful wizard, and collected dangerous artifacts. And a few other things, probably completely irrelevant to the conversation. “Wasn’t he the one you claimed to be the protege of? When I was teaching you?” Essek smiled, just a slight teasing grin, and Caleb blushed sheepishly. “Wasn’t he the one Jester, Bo, and Nott got so excited about and made them think of that graphic novel idea that they were going to work on?” And Caleb’s blush went darker. As expected

“They told you about that?” A mortified whisper, and Essek composed his face into blank amusement.

“Jester did. In the middle of the night. She wanted to know if I was okay staring in a romance novel. Did they ever get finished?”

“Nein.” Caleb groaned, “Thank goodness. If my students found out, I would never have peace again.”

“I don't know whether to be grateful that they never finished, or saddened that I'll never get to see it."

"You should definitely be grateful."

"Well then, what’s with Yussa?”

Caleb’s blush faded, and any trace of slump disappeared. “A couple of weeks ago I sent Yussa a letter like yours. When I didn’t get a response, Jester messaged him. What that didn’t get a response, I headed over there myself, only to find that Yussa isn’t taking any audiences. I believe he may be in some trouble.”

“So? He is a wizard of some capabilities.”

Caleb winced. “Ja, but Yussa is also the one who’s keeping watch of Halas’s imprisonment. He also has the Happy Fun Ball, sorry, the Archmage Bane. Either of them would be a problem, but Yussa has both and has already shown that he doesn’t make the best decisions with these items.”

“Can you not do it yourself? If he has been taken over by Halas, a bigger team could take him down easier. And if he entered the Archmage Bane, you could probably send Bo, and all would be well.”

“If I could, I wouldn’t be here. We are all having problems right now. We are all struggling. Running a school that straddles the border between Xhorhas and the Empire isn’t easy, you know. Especially when it's full of wizards and monks who want nothing more than to find out their teacher’s secrets.” He shuddered, then smiled, a soft smile, blue eyes glinting. “Besides, have you ever been to Nicodranas? It’s lovely this time of year. When was the last time you took a break from your Shadowhand duties? If everything is fine with Yussa, you can have a vacation. See the ocean, listen to the Ruby sing.”

Later, if anyone asked him, Essek would claim that it was those twinkling blue eyes that made him say yes.

. . .

Yussa Errenis was standing, fingers braced against his table, and staring intently at the intricate golden orb. He really shouldn’t, really, really shouldn’t. In fact, what he should do is put the Heirloom Sphere up and walk away. 

But Yussa hadn’t gotten to where he was by walking away from a challenge. 

He pushed himself away from the table and strode across the room to stare at the map pinned to the wall. So little mapped, it was like an itch he couldn’t scratch, or sand under his scales. Annoying, and something that needed to be addressed. 

Yussa hated mysteries. They begged to be answered, pestered him till he could no longer resist their allure.

He turned back to the Heirloom Sphere and stared at it, willing it to give up its mysteries. Already his mind was picking it apart, showing him ways to get in. It would be fine, he just wouldn’t cast spells and would shift if he got into trouble. 

Before a collar got locked onto his neck. Gods, that had been humiliating, stupid collar.

The door opened, and Wensforth poked his head in. “Food, sir. And if I may, it’s the middle of the night, and you haven’t slept in three days.” The goblin’s tone was admonishing, but fluttery and nervous. It was always fluttery and nervous when Yussa was in this room with the Heirloom Sphere and other dangerous artifacts.

Yussa sighed. “Of course Wensforth, you’re right. Take dinner up to my chambers please, I’ll be up in a moment.”

The soft thud of the door signaled Wensforth’s departure, and Yussa turned from the sphere to where the red gem sat on his desk, imprisoned under multitudes of defensive spells. Even through the spells, it still glinted, and like all gems near him, it glowed. “Well Halas, I hope you know how effective your trap is.” There was no reply, then again, why would there be one? Yussa sighed another time and exited the chamber. 

Another day wasted.

. . .

In his ruby gem Halas was fuming. Stupid Mighty Nein, stupid saboteur. Sure, technically while in the gem he was immortal. And sure, he’d spilled a few lies about his imprisonment. Mainly the fact that he could hear them talking outside the gem, but still!

Being a ruby was really boring. While In the dreadnought’s stomach the boredom hadn’t been that bad, but now, with people just outside, with conversations flickering past his senses, it was unbearable.

He wanted to get back to his experiments. He had so many ideas, but he had nothing to write them down on! It was frustrating! So many wonders spilling out between his fingertips because he couldn’t keep track of them.

Perhaps he could have dealt with his boredom if that wizard, Yussa, thought out loud. If he did that, then Halas could have entertained himself by coming up with the solutions quicker then Yussa could. A one sided game of wits and magic. But of course that was not his fate. His fate was to sit in his ruby prison till the end of time, stuck with a wizard to cautious to talk to him. Or to talk in the ruby’s presence. 

Which left him with nothing but boredom.

He sincerely hoped that something, anything, would happen soon. Something exciting, something unexpected. Something that he could meddle in.


	2. Chapter Zwei

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I'm still here, I'm just a slow updater.

“Vacation?” Leylas Kryn, the Bright Queen raised one pale slim eyebrow, and leaned forward slightly in her throne. “What brought this up?”

Essek, as the Shadowhand, was one of the few people who could request a private audience with Leylas and be granted that request. Not completely alone, of course, but everyone but the most trusted guards were sent away. So now there was only Leylas and three other guards who got to hear Essek’s unusual request.

Essek never went on vacation. 

Something was obviously wrong.

Essek’s face was blank and composed, his hands were hidden in the folds of his cloak, he floated just a couple of inches off the floor. Only he and Leylas knew that was not just showing off, but also necessary. And only Leylas could see through the cracks in his mask, she had to be able to, as his queen it was necessary. “Well,” Essek started, “I’ve been meaning to take a break for a while now,” it was true, if you traced that need for a break back to when he’d been assigned to watch the Mighty Nein, “But it is only recently that I feel as if events have settled down enough to allow for such a pause in my work.”

“Where would you go? Somewhere that wasn’t embroiled in the last war, I hope.”

“I’ve heard that Nicodranas is lovely this year.” Essek braced his fingers together and waited patiently for Leylas’s next question. And there would be more questions, he had no doubt about that.

“Really?” Leylas smiled, eyes glinting, “Nicodranas? Did one of our heroes recommend it?”

Essek, try as he might, could not stop himself from blushing. “Well, possibly.” He muttered, eyes flicking away quickly from Leylas’s searching gaze.

“Please tell me,” she drawled, “That you a Caleb are going on this vacation together? I have a bet with my guards I want to win.”

“What! That’s not - that’s - I -” Essek stopped, face flaming, decorum abandoned, he ran his fingers through his hair. “That’s not what’s going on!”

“But it has something to do with him, otherwise you wouldn’t be turning that particular shade of purple. So spill, what is it this time?” Her voice was light and amused, and a smile graced her lips, but her eyes were still sharp and watchful as ever.

Essek sighed, loudly. “Caleb has asked me to check up on a friend of his down in Nicodranas. He’s not taking visitors, and it’s possible he’s possessed.”

All traces of playfulness vanished from Leylas’s face. “Who is it?”

“The wizard Yussa Errenis. It shouldn’t take but a few days, maybe less.”

Leylas hummed thoughtfully and placed her chin on her palm, turquoise eyes gone cold and calculating. “Nicodranas, huh. Do we have anyone in Nicodranas?”

“No,” Essek shook his head, “It’s a city on the coast, on the other side of the Empire. We haven’t had a chance to send anyone in,” his eyes lit up, “You want me to see if I can get a handhold.”

“Only if it’s easy to do. Peace is a fragile thing, and though it might last now, it is not guaranteed in the future. Besides, coastal cities have access to trade areas we do not, it would be wise to foster relations.” The nails of one hand tapped on the armrest of her throne. “Do this errand, see if you can get into this wizard’s good graces, and start to offer trade deals and the like. If you need more than a few days, take them. Xorhas can survive without you,” she smiled slightly, “for a little while, at least.”

Essek bowed. “Thank you, my Queen.”

Leylas smiled, “No, Essek, thank you.”

. . .

Essek spent the rest of the day finishing work that could not be left undone for long periods of time. Then he ended up going out to tell his contacts of his period of absence, and it was only when he was at the door when one of his guards said, “Sir? I would wait if I were you.”

“Oh?” Essek tilted his head, “Why?”

The guard was shaking, just slightly, but enough to make the plate and chain of his armor to clank and jingle. The guard swallowed, “A green cloaked figure with a wide smile just materialized and walked through the door. I tried to stop him sir, but he just went through me.”

Essek raised an eyebrow, and smiled slightly, though inwardly he was cringing. “Ah, understandable. No worries, that being was no enemy.”

The guard nodded, but didn’t look reassured. Essek slipped by him and into his study. As expected, there was a package on the table, a long thin one, and a folded piece of paper. Unexpectedly, there were no dicks drawn anywhere, at least not drawn on anyplace obvious. He stuck his head out the door and said, “When I leave tomorrow, I would like a full search of this room please. You’re looking for dicks, either drawn, painted, or scratched onto a surface. They might be on the bottom of the furniture. If you find them, please remove them.” He caught a glimpse of the guard's startled face before closing the door.

Essek approached his desk and opened the paper. It was a letter, obviously from Jester. The paper was pink and smelled faintly of roses, the handwriting was over the top calligraphy, there were dicks and unicorn hamsters drawn on the margins of the paper. Nothing less would be expected. With a sigh, Essek sat down and began to read.

Hiiiiiii Essek!!!!!!

It’s Jester, Caleb told me about how you were going to Nicodranas!!!! Of course as I cannot give you a proper tour, I’ve made a map of the city with all the best stops in gold paint! You should totally see the ocean, and visit my mom, and Fjord! You should go see Fjord! He’s in Nicodranas too! Also Nicodranas has a lot of sun and I remember that you said that drow burn easily in the sunlight so I bought you a present! It will help and it will really look great with your robes. Also Caleb forgot to give you Yussa’s teleportation circle (He was totally distracted by how great you looked, I know this for a fact.) so he made me send a copy over. Have fun!!!

Love,

Jester

P.S. Before you teleport there you might want to contact Wensforth. He’s Yussa’s goblin butler, old little goblin in a suite, and it’s best if you have one person helping you out there if Yussa tries hard to get you lo leave.

P.P.S. Yes, there is a dick in your room now. NO, I will not tell you where.

Essek sighed and placed the letter back onto his desk. He hoped his staff would find the dick when he was gone, but it was out of his hands now. He looked at the two papers that had been folded in the letter. One was a detailed map of Nicodranas, with certain places marked in gold paint. The other was a teleportation circle. He smiled slightly, then reached out and unwrapped the present. Finally, he was left staring at the frilly, black lace parasol.

Essek closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and then groaned.


	3. Chapter Drei

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy smokes I am blown away by the fact that people are reading this. And liking it! Like, WOW.

Wensforth was cleaning. It wasn’t like he was always cleaning, but Yussa was finally sleeping, so Wensforth couldn’t cook, and there was no one else in the tower to talk too (except the ruby, but in Wensforth’s opinion, the ruby didn’t count) so there was nothing to do but clean, read, or play cards. He’d already read most of the books he could understand, and had been working through a particularly difficult tome a couple hours before. Then he had played cards for an hour, but there was only so much time he could spend playing cards before screaming. So now he was cleaning. 

This was the second day Yussa had been sleeping.

Which was a good thing, at least in Wensforth’s eyes. Yussa had the horrible habit of becoming obsessed with whatever he was working on at the time. This often led to him forgetting to do so called trivial things, like eating, or sleeping. And on one memorable occasion, breathing. So Wensforth always tried to make sure that Yussa remembered to eat and sleep, and if Yussa missed a few days of sleep, then he was happy if Yussa managed to sleep for a few days straight.

Probably not the best way of looking at things, but Wensforth took his victories anyway he could. Being the butler of a dragon was a difficult job, after all. Especially if said butler was a goblin past his prime.

There was a brush against his ear, the whispery tingle of magic, and for a second Wensforth felt a pang of fear. The blue tiefling hadn’t called in a while, but he had no illusions, one day the calm would break. Wensforth stopped polishing the glass case (one of the many in the room. This was one of the many rooms Wensforth liked to dub the “show off rooms”. These were rooms filled with harmless, expensive looking artifacts that had been put on display. All the good stuff was kept closer to Yussa’s hoard.) and straightened up as the words brushed his ear. It was not the excitable chatter of a tiefling, but a reserved, calm voice with a Xhorhassian accent. “Hello Wensforth. I am Essek Theylass, a friend of Caleb. He has asked me to call on your master. Do I have permission to come?”

A friend of Caleb’s, one that Caleb trusted enough to send here. Wensforth thought quickly. Yussa was asleep, so technically Wensforth was in control of the tower. Yussa would sleep for a while more, enough time to get the wheels of hospitality moving. Though hospitality would only keep Yussa from booting this Essek out of the tower for a short time. No, the only way Essek would be able to stay and call on Yussa was to be interesting. And Wensforth had no doubt that Essek was interesting.

The only people who got close to the Mighty Nein were the ones who were interesting.

“Yes, you may. Would you like me to make tea?”

Magic against his ear again, that Xhorhassian voice. “Then I will be there momentarily. Tea would be delightful.”

“Then I shall put the kettle on.” Wensforth collected his cleaning supplies, then ran to the kitchen. He put the kettle on, than ran out and up the stairs to the teleportation chamber. He got their just in time, opening the door as the faintest whumph of magic signaled the wizard’s arrival. The wizard was a drow, dark grey-purple skin, short white hair, striking eyes, with a silver mantle and a long, dark robe. 

He was also floating a couple of inches above the ground.

Good, that was suitably interesting. Hopefully.

“You’re Essek?”

“Yes,” the drow smiled, “and you are Wensforth?”

“Uh, yes. Follow me.” At a much less violent pace, Wensforth started down the stairs. Essek followed him, eyeing the walls curiously.

“How large is the tower?” He asked, a finger trialing on the smooth wall. Whatever spell he was using to keep himself afloat seemed to have no trouble navigating the stairway.

“Four floors.” Wensforth said, neglecting to mention the massive caverns below the tower.

“Really? It seems much taller than that.” 

“Master is very fond of large rooms.” Yussa may have spent most of his time as an elf, but there were days he traveled around the tower in his true form. The tower had to be large enough to accommodate him.

. . .

Four floors, the rooms must be massive if the tower was only four floors. The stone was smooth beneath Essek’s finger, it was a greenish stone, and glowed slightly, Essek couldn’t help but wonder what it was made out of. It looked like jade, but jade didn’t glow, at least not usually. The stairs continued downward, occasionally opening up to a landing, with doors on the side. More doors that lead to more rooms than a tower could hold, unless it was a magic tower.

Essek’s curiosity peaked. He liked interesting things, it was why he was the Shadowhand, it was part of the reason why he had started teaching Caleb dunamancy.

The goblin Wensforth didn’t speak as they continued down the stairs, and Essek wondered why. He seemed nervous. Was it because of Essek’s presence? Or was it because Yussa would not appreciate Essek’s arrival? “Where is Yussa, Wensforth?” He asked, and in the quietness of the tower his voice sounded slightly to loud.

“Sleeping,” Wensforth said, “He needs his sleep.”

“Really? Why?”

“Because he often decides that sleep isn’t important.” There was a sour note in the goblins voice.

“Ah.” Essek might have been like that, if being the Shadowhand didn’t require him to be in top form. Which meant he always tried to get the correct amount of sleep. However, for a wizard who didn’t hold an important part of the government, sleep might be something that could be ignored. At least part of the time.

Wensforth sped up. “This way,” he turned on the landing, opened one of the doors, and led Essek into what looked like a receiving room. Tables, chairs, a fireplace, glass display cases, lights hung glittering in the air. “Take a seat, I’ll be back momentarily with tea.” He ran out of the room.

Essek took a seat, kinda, he hung a few centimeters above the cushion, but it counted as sitting. Mostly. He looked around, eyeing the glass cases. Most had books, open to specific pages to show diagrams and drawings. A few held weapons or jewellery, all old and exotic. It wasn’t as if Yussa was showing off, but more as if he was showing something he was proud of. Most people didn’t think there was a difference between the two. Essek, however, did.

Wensforth came back, this time carrying a tray with a kettle and two cups. He served the tea, passed a cup to Essek, and settled back into a chair opposite of the drow. He sipped nervously, then said, “So, uh, what did Caleb tell you?”

Essek sipped his tea, it was good tea, with a trace of cinnamon in it. “That Yussa collects dangerous artifacts. That he is afraid that Yussa has decided to go into the Archmage Bane or is possessed by the wizard Halas.” The goblin shifted. “But that’s not it, is it?” Essek eyed him, “So what is?”

“Well,” Wensforth coughed, set his tea down, then proceeded to wring his hands. “So, a few weeks ago Yussa came across this piece that dated back from before the calamity. Well, apparently, it belongs to something that is within the Archmage Bane, and Yussa,” he sighed, “Yussa is the worst with puzzles. He might be a powerful wizard, but put something in front of him that needs to be solved and he can’t help himself. Honestly, I’m surprised that he hasn’t gone into the Archmage Bane already. As for the ruby,” he made a face, “The ruby is protected.”

“Ahh,” and there was just a trace of disappointment in Essek’s voice, “so I am not needed after all.”

The goblin waved his hands around wildly. “NO, no, no. You can be a help. You see, all we need to do is distract Yussa with something else. Yussa has never been to Xhorhas, he has never met a wizard for Xhorhas, you are just the distraction I’ve been waiting for.”

Essek sipped his tea and thought. Leylas did want him to establish ties to Nicodranas, and it would be a challenge, and Essek hadn’t had a good challenge in a while.

“Wensforth?” A voice, Essek looked up, froze like a startled rabbit. “I heard voices, you better not have picked up th . . .” The voice trailed off, sharp gold eyes met Essek’s. “Wensforth, who is this?”

Luxon save me, Essek thought, Caleb could have warned me that he was hot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every hour is hating solitaire hour.  
Also, I now understand Jester's struggles with Sending.


	4. Chapter Vier

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again thank you all for all these comments and kudos, you all are amazing. Have a great new year!!

Yussa awoke to voices. One was Wensfoth’s, the other voice belonged to a stranger. Yussa pushed himself up and yawned loudly. How long had he been asleep? More importantly, why was there another voice in the tower? The only other being to talk to was Halas, and Halas was in his ruby with lots of pro-

He rolled out of bed and stumbled around, searching for a robe. For a second it was mindless panic, but then reason reasserted itself. Even if Wensforth had picked up a ruby, Yussa would not have been able to hear Halas’ voice. Which meant he had a visitor. Someone Wensforth trusted enough to let in when he was sleeping. Which meant either one of the Mighty Nein or Allura.

He hoped it wasn’t Allura.

With this in mind he dressed himself in his customary gold robes and braided his hair. His mind was already scrambling. Excuses, explanations, reasons for cutting all contact. He’d start with the ruby, try to distract. Allura might not be fazed, but if it was one of the Mighty Nien it could work. It depended on which one though, Beauregard was sharp, and so was Caduceus. And Jester, occasionally. But it was better than nothing.

He made his way to the receiving rooms as swiftly as he could in his robe. Long, gold robes may look impressive, but unfortunately they had their drawbacks. Mobility being one. He came in quietly, while Wensforth was chatting about some kind of distraction. Impertinent goblin, sometimes Yussa wondered who was the one in control of whom, as Wensforth did have an annoying habit of trying to boss him around.

“Wensforth?” He said, “I heard voices, you better not have picked up th . . .” Then he caught sight of the guest, and his voice trailed off. The guest was not one of the Mighty Nien, nor was it Allura or any of the others on the Tal’dorei Council. It was a drow. Yussa’s eyes met silver ones with red pupils. How interesting, he hadn’t known drow had red pupils. Or perhaps it wasn’t all drow but a mutation? “Wensforth, who is this?”

The goblin coughed slightly. “This is Essek Theylass, a friend of Caleb’s. He’s from Xhorhas.”

The drow, who’d been sitting as if petrified, blinked, shook his head, set down his tea cup, and then smiled and stood, “It is good to meet you, Yussa Errenis, Caleb has told me a lot about you.”

There was an awkward pause, in which Yussa wasn’t quite sure what to do. If it had been someone he’d known, then he would have been able to take control of the situation. But Essek Theylass was completely unexpected and therefore threw him for a loop. There was a reason he left most of the business to Wensforth. Wensforth. He met the goblin’s narrowed eyes. With a sigh, he resigned himself to his fate. 

“No, please sit, and tell me what has brought you to my home.” Caleb. It had to have been Caleb who had given up the teleportation circle. He would have to talk to him. He had not given him the teleportation circle just so he could hand it off to any old stranger! 

Essek sat down, albeit slightly awkwardly. Yussa wondered why. “Well, it was the work of a mutual friend of ours. I have known Caleb for a while now, and he was wondering if I could check up on you, considering how you denied his own entrance.”

“Really? And what is your relationship with Caleb?” Yussa sat down, and realized with a start that there were three tea cups on the table. One was his designated tea cup, he reached out, picked it up, and sipped. Ahh yes, for all his bossy ways, Wensforth truly was a marvel.

As he did this, Yussa watched curiously as the drow froze, and then he watched with even more curiosity as the drow’s ears turned a darker shade of purple. So their relationship was like that, was it? Well, well, apparently Caleb had good taste. Essek coughed slightly and said, “Caleb and his friends are the Heroes of the Dynasty. I was assigned to keep watch over them and make sure they did not get into any unnecessary trouble. I helped them get to the places they needed to go.” His mouth twisted slightly, “Thankfully, they no longer call on me for that type of favor.” He took a sip of his tea.

“You know,” Yussa said, “I was never told about how they gained that status.”

“You weren’t? I assumed it was common knowledge by now.” He sighed, his silver eyes regarded Yussa carefully. Really, it was such a disconcerting effect, silver irises and red pupils, super unnerving. “They returned a significant artifact to us. One of the Beacons, in fact.”

One of the Beacons, why did that sound . . . Yussa started. “The dodecahedron?” The one he had specifically told them not to use when near Xhorhas? 

“You know of it?” Curious, questioning, almost suspicious.

“Yes, when they first came to the tower, it was one of the objects they allowed me to inspect, along with the Archmage’s Bane. I was not able to convince them to leave the dodecahedron with me, but they did leave the Archmage’s Bane.”

Essek’s eyes narrowed slightly. “It’s a good thing you didn’t. The Beacons are incredibly important to the Dynasty. If you had kept it, sooner or later you would have had a fight on your hands.”

Yussa was almost positive that he could survive whatever the Dynasty threw at him. “So what does it do? When I examined it, I got the feeling of some completely alien magic. Dangerous magic that played with the fabric of time.”

The drow froze for a second, head tilted slightly, as if trying to determine what would be safe to say and what would not be. Finally, he said “The Beacons are major religious and magical artifacts. They hold the souls of our ancestors, who are reborn in the areas the Beacons are present. It allows us to be reincarnated. As for the type of magic, that is dunamancy.” He smirked, just slightly. “You could say it’s a drow specialty.”

“Really? Is that the same type of magic that is on your cloak?”

. . .

Sometime in the middle of this conversation, Wensforth left the room to do a victory dance. The plan was a success. So far, at least.

. . .

Essek froze, mind scrambling. He needed to stall for time to figure out what to say. He raised his cup to his lips and took a careful sip. His hands were trembling, just slightly. “You are very perceptive, most people don’t notice that.”

“Which is a shame,” Yussa murmured, his gold eyes studying Essek very intently, “It’s a clever piece of work. Not a levitation spell, otherwise you wouldn’t be able to move. It’s more like reverse gravity, but you can control it to move you in other directions. Or perhaps it’s something completely different. Very clever. Very interesting.” He was smiling, his teeth bright white against his tanned skin, his gold eyes glinting. There was something very . . . inhuman about his gaze, which was a stupid way to describe it since Yussa was an elf, but Essek didn’t know any other way to put it. 

Also, he could of sworn that Yussa’s last words sounded more like a purr or a growl than actual speech.

Was he flushing? He felt like he was flushing.

“Yes, well,” he coughed, collected himself, “I did put a lot of work into it.”

“May I see it?”  
“Uh, no. It’s one of a kind,” as well as being the one way Essek could move around easily without showcasing his disability to the world, “and it helps me look imposing, which is part of my job, so I can’t really lend it to you either. I’m sorry.”

“Shame.” 

“Well then,” he coughed again. He felt like he was losing control, as if the room was too warm, but he knew it had to be him. Yussa certainly didn’t look overly uncomfortable, but then again, Yussa was so good looking that it must have been hard for him to look uncomfortable. “Another reason I am here is business for my Queen. She wishes to build contacts with Nicodranus. It has come to our attention that part of the reason the war came about,” besides the Empire stealing the beacons and the generations of general mistrust, “is because Xhoras is often looked down upon by others because the country is inhabited by the races most deem monstrous. We wish to . . . improve upon this outlook, as perhaps if people from other countries will see us for who we are and not for what we look like, then perhaps this peace can last for longer then the immediate century.”

Yussa leaned back in his seat. “And you want me to be this contact.”

“No, no.” Essek shook his head, smiled. “I’m saying that I am trying to foster relations. First with you, and then if this goes well, with others. My suggestion is simple, really. An exchange in spells. I know a great deal about dunamancy, and am willing to teach you some. In exchange, when I go to approach others in this city, you support me.”

Yussa’s eyes were thoughtful, but he looked curious. Then suddenly he grinned and Essek’s heart skipped a beat. “Better deal. You teach me a bit about dunamancy, I’ll teach you a few spells I’ve whipped up over the years.” He pulled the end of his braid lightly. “I’m afraid that I’m not on the best terms with the Clovis Concord, so having me back you will only be detrimental to your efforts.” He held out one elegant hand. “Deal?”

Essek smiled, took the offered hand. “Deal. When would you like to start?”

“How about now?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Personal head cannon of mine that drow have red pupils, so when people see them in the dark it looks like they have red eyes because their pupils are so dilated.


	5. Chapter Fünf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again thank you all for your comments and kudos! You guys make my day.

Halas was bored, in a hopeful, tentative way. He’d heard the goblin traipsing past the room his ruby was held in, and even better, the goblin had been talking to someone. On one hand, there hadn’t been the sound of any footsteps other then the goblin’s. On the other hand, there had been another voice. Another very distinct voice that Halas had never heard before, with an accent that Halas had never heard either. Which gave him hope that soon his boredom would be lifted. Unfortunately, it didn’t stop him from being bored now.

Time passed in the way it did when one was a ruby, utterly uncountable. It could have been minutes, it could have been years, Halas had no way of telling. He thought uncomfortably of Beauregard’s declaration when she’d picked up the ruby the first time. The vast amount of time that had passed. 

A voice, the same oddly accented voice from earlier, coming in this direction, interrupted his spiraling thoughts. “If you are positive that you have the time, I wouldn’t want to tear you away from your duties or studies.”

Another voice, this one definitely Yussa’s, “Nonsense, I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t free. Besides, the reason you’re here is to disrupt my work anyway. Come on in, this is my main workshop.”

Halas found himself holding his breath in a somewhat pathetic attempt to hide, seeing that he was a ruby and they couldn’t hear him anyway. 

A soft intake of breath. “Very impressive, is that what I think it is?”

“Yes, the Archmage’s Bane. I assume” Yussa paused here for a second, his tone turning slightly darker, “that Wensforth has told you about what I’m working on.”

“He has. And if that is the Archmage’s Bane, then that must be Halas’s ruby. When I imagined it in safe care, I’d imagined it locked up somewhere, not out on a table under a glowing nexus next to a bunch of other magical items.” Halas couldn’t help but feel indignant. What was he, just another magical trinket? He deserved his own table, at least.

“If you’re worried about your secrets getting out, there is no need to be, he can’t hear us.”

Halas’s ears perked up, metaphorically of course. Secrets? Secrets meant information, and information meant power. Once again he dearly wished for anything to take notes with.

“Have you asked him about your little conundrum?”

“No, I’ll ask only if I have no other options.”

“Ah, well then, on to business.”

“Yes,” there was an eagerness to Yussa’s tone, a half buried growl, “Dunamancy.”

Dunamancy? What was that? Ohhh, if only he had some paper and ink.

“Of course. Dunamancy is a multifaceted school of magic, so you’ll get to choose what type of category the spells I will teach you fall under. You have density, gravity, spells that bend fate, destiny, and spells that can distort the potentiality of an enemy.”

Halas, safe within his ruby, dearly wished he could smile. All of those things sounded promising, interesting, things he could figure out, things he could improve upon. And if the mysterious person who knew about this Dunamancy was teaching Yussa, and they were in the same room Halas was held . . . well, suddenly things were looking up.

. . .

Essek watched Yussa as the wizard thought hard. He had a furrow between his brows, one that hinted of long nights spent with eyes narrowed in concentration. Essek wanted to smooth that furrow away, a silly want, but a want nonetheless. Yussa looked up, golden eyes fixed on Essek’s own. “Isn’t bending fate and destiny the same thing?”

Essek pressed his fingers together and smiled. “You would think so, but they aren’t. Bending fate is more in the short run of things, more time related. Destiny is the long run of things.” He thought for a second. “More akin to reincarnation then temporary twists of fate.”

Yussa looked fascinated, his eyes were gleaming. “Really, and what is your specialty?”

Essek’s cheeks were starting to feel warm again, but he ruthlessly kept his face in his normal polite, if slightly arrogant mask. “Gravity is my main one.”

Yussa raised an eyebrow. “Main one? You have more?”

Of course he had more, he was the Shadowhand. It was just that he tended to keep the rest of his specialties a secret, and let gravity be the one most people focused on. “A few,” he offered, but he hoped that his expression told the other wizard that any other information would not be forthcoming. 

“Hmmm.” Yussa mused, leaning slightly against a work table, the gold of his robes glinting in the light from the globes on the walls. They looked almost like the globes that the Mighty Nien had strung up on the Xhorhouse, but less artsy and more utilitarian, although there was certainly elegance in their craftsmanship. “Density, gravity, time, destiny, and potentiality. There is no shortage of options. Hmmmm.”

Essek forced himself to look away from Yussa as he mused, and instead focused on the workroom itself. It was large, shelves full of books and objects lined the walls, enough space between each for a globe that burned with a warm, steady light. There were two globes flanking a series of maps strewn across a blank spot on the wall. The maps looked half completed, with space for more rooms to be added. There were three large tables arranged in a rough semicircle, each strewn with various objects. One held the glittering Archmage’s Bane, another held objects of various design and purpose, the ruby prison among them. The third held an odd object, jewel-like in its properties, complex in its design, and surrounded by various spell components. Perhaps the most curious thing about the room was that each gem seemed to give off a faint glow, except, no that wasn’t the most curious thing about the room. The most curious thing in the room was the statue of the Traveler half hidden behind a pamphlet on one of the shelves. Essek looked over the room with a new eye, wondering where the dick had been placed.

If he’d have to bet, he’d say that it was probably hidden in the maps somewhere.

Yussa snapped his fingers as he came to a conclusion. “Let’s start with gravity, for now.”

Essek smiled. “A delightful choice,” He summoned his spellbook out of it’s pocket dimension, “Shall we?” He waved a hand and his spellbook floated out in front of him, pages whirring as they shifted. “Now the one I’m going to teach you, please do not be insulted, is a low level spell. However, I feel that I must teach you this one for your own safety.”

Yussa blinked. “My own safety?”

Essek smiled slightly, “Yes, your own safety. You see, Caleb knows this one, and Jester knows he has this one, and I have it on very good information that they have pulled pranks before on unknowing subjects. The spell’s name is Immovable Object.”

“Immovable Object?”

“Yes, mind if I borrow this?” He reached out and picked up the Archmage’s Bane.

Yussa shifted slightly, then growled softly. “Go ahead.” Essek cast the spell, and let go of the Archmage’s Bane. It hung in the air, a ball of interlocking parts, the metal glinting softly. Yussa stalked around it, long robes rustling, fingers trailing across its surface. The he grabbed it and yanked. It did not budge. His eyes narrowed, he started to smile, he yanked again, harder this time. Once again it did not move. “Pranks, you said?”

Essek nodded. “Pranks. Please don’t ask.”

Yussa turned back to the Archmage’s Bane. “How long?”

“Up to an hour or until I end the spell.” He snapped his fingers, an unnecessary flourish, and watched Yussa catch it as it dropped. Yussa was fast, for a wizard, very, very fast. “So, what do you think?” He asked the question because Yussa was not Caleb. When he’d taught Caleb this spell, Caleb had been collecting every scrap of magic he could get, trying so hard to become more powerful, willing to take any spell he could get his hands on. Yussa, however, was already powerful, he was already at the top, the tower itself was evidence of that, and for Essek to play this game well, he needed to make sure the spells he taught Yussa were adequate.

“I think,” the other wizard said softly, “that there are many uses for this spell that are not,” the corner of his mouth twitched up, and Essek found himself watching, captivated, “pranks.” 

“Yeah,” he breathed, then shook himself mentally. Bad Shadowhand. Bad bad bad. Stop getting distracted by the hot wizard! “Well then, shall we transcribe the spell?”

“Lets,” Yussa pulled out his spell book from his robes, flipped it open to a blank page. “Then I will show you one of my own.” He smiled then, a sharp, half daring smile, his words dragging out into a low half growl. 

Essek’s heart skipped a beat and his cheeks felt like they were heating up again. He took a deep breath, pressed his fingertips together, and smiled back, a small, half secret smile. “I can’t wait.”


	6. Chapter Sechs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You are all super awesome! Thank you Pom_Rania for pointing out my mistakes. To be honest, its a miracle that there haven't been more errors.

Immovable Object, Immovable Object, what a useful spell, the ideas were endless. Yussa’s mind wandered to the mage hunting golems in the Archmage’s Bane and wondered . . . but no, not yet. A spell for a spell. And he’d promised the Mighty Nein that he wouldn’t go in without a team to help. No, he would ruminate later, when a visiting wizard was not in his workshop. Now he had to figure out a spell exchange. Then an idea struck him.

Yussa tapped the blank page with a finger and said. “I can actually think of one spell I can share now. May I see your spellbook?”

Essek tilted his head, his cheeks and ears where once again slightly more purple than the rest of his skin, his eyes glittered softly. “Of course.” A gesture of the hand and the page with Immovable Object was presented for his inspection. 

Yussa smiled, “My thanks”, then he waved a hand over the page, muttering softly in draconic under his breath. The ring on his pointer finger flashed gold, then black. He moved over to his bookshelves, pulled out a spare spellbook, he always kept extras, flipped it open to a blank page, and set it beside his main spellbook, all the while muttering the words for the spell. Gently, he touched his pointer finger to the blank page in his main notebook, and hissed a few more syllables. The ring flashed again, the black disappearing and the gold humming softly. From where his finger touched the page, symbols started spreading, then rearranging, and when he pulled his hand back, the spell was on the page, an exact copy, even down to Essek’s handwriting.

It was also on the spare’s page.

And on the blank page of every other spare spellbook he had in the tower.

Yussa straightened with a decidedly proud smirk. He loved this spell. “This spell is only good for one thing, but it does that one thing really well. And you do need a gold object worth about 50 gold pieces to do it. I use a ring, it’s much simpler.” For the first time since starting the spell, he looked at Essek.

The drow’s eyes were shining, his smile a wonder to behold. His mask of blank indifference and arrogance hadn't completely disappeared, but it had slipped. He blinked for a second, regained his composure. “It seems,” he murmured, “that I’ve been outdone.”

Yussa snorted. “Nonsense, your Immovable Object will be quite useful in the future.” If he couldn’t budge it, he doubted that the golems could. “Besides,” he smiled, “I wasn’t aware that this was a competition.”

Essek smiled back, his eyes gleeful. “Perhaps it should be?” His voice was light, teasing.

“Really?” It was a thought, but Yussa had no doubt he would win. He’d had a long time to collect spells and to form some of his own.

“Why not?” Essek’s smile was slightly more challenging. “Whomever shares the most impressive spell wins.”

“Wins what?” Yussa was smiling now. A challenge. This would be fun.

Essek blinked. “Bragging rights?” His words were hesitant, as if he knew they weren’t going to be received well.

“No,” Yussa growled, “If I’m going to be giving away my best spells, I want to know what I will win is worth a whole lot.”

“It’s not only you who will be giving away his best spells, but I see your point.” He thought for a second. “Perhaps the winner should be the one to determine the prize.”

“Grand.” What should he ask of the drow, once he won? Hmmm . . . he couldn’t think of anything. Well, he’d know when the time came. “Well then, shall we get this one inscribed into your spellbook?” He flipped pages until Synchronized Copy popped up, runes black against the parchment.

“Of course.” The pages of Essek’s spellbook whirred as they shifted, the drow’s eyes were bright and sharp, and Yussa found himself smiling again, this time for no particular reason that he could discern.

. . .

Halas, in his ruby, could not contain a half wail of distress. Spells to learn and secrets to discover, and they were flirting. Flirting! It was unthinkable! He wanted to cradle his head in his hands and moan in despair. He wanted to learn! Not be the unwitting person getting second hand embarrassment! But no, he would endure, he would have too, if he wanted to learn these spells.

Besides, it wasn’t as if he had any other choice.

. . .

Essek’s mind was whirring as he copied down the spell, it was a good one, and he couldn’t wait to use it. Perhaps it could be modified, not just to copy down spells, but perhaps to write down what he was thinking onto blank parchment. It would save a lot of time and ink, and if he did that he might actually get ahead of his paperwork for once. “Is this right?” 

Yussa looked over his shoulder, and Essek was keenly aware of the other elf’s presence. Yussa was taller than him, and also warm, radiating heat like some kind of fire. His gold eyes flicked over the copied spell. “Yes, that is correct.” His words brushed past Essek’s ear, and he tried his best to repress a shiver. 

“Good,” Essek said instead, floating a couple of inches away from that welcoming warmth in-case he did something unwise, “I would have truly hated to copy it down wrong.” He shut his spellbook with a snap of his fingers, eyes drifting over the maps on the wall. There was something about them . . . “Is that empty space there for a reason?”

Yussa’s voice contained a frustrated growl, “There’s a room there, I just haven’t found a way in yet.”

Yet, which meant he was planning to go in. How soon though? Essek considered the odd device on the first side table. Soon, if he had to guess. His exchange, no, it was a contest now, would only distract Yussa for a while then. “Have you,” Essek said, as if the thought had just occurred to him, “considered Caleb’s proposal?”

“Caleb’s proposal?” Yussa sounded flustered, and Essek turned to look at him. He looked surprised, golden eyes slightly wide. “Uh, not really, I don’t really leave the tower.”

“Why not?”

Yussa didn’t answer, but his mouth twisted slightly. Bad question then. “Did he extend the same proposal to you?” He asked, an obvious deflection, but Essek decided to let it slide. For a second he examined Yussa, the slight stiffness in the shoulders, the barely perceptible set of his jaw, the tilt of the eyebrows, the sudden hardness in his eyes. Anyone else might not have noticed it, but Essek was the Shadowhand. This was what he did for a living. And with that knowledge he knew he had struck a nerve. He would let him avoid the question, for now at least.

“Yes he did, and to be honest I have considered it. Not currently, as I am very busy, but perhaps later, after my . . . retirement. Which reminds me,” he’d almost forgotten, “how exactly should I contact the Clovis Concord?”

Yussa blinked, shoulders relaxing. “Well, you’ll have to get into contact with the guilds first, let me get you a list of people you might find helpful. Just,” A flick of the ears, and uneasiness in his eyes, “don’t mention my name and you should be fine. Let’s go back to the receiving rooms, Wensforth can bring some tea and maybe some food? I’ll meet you there.” He walked over and held open the door.

Essek forced himself not to disassemble the words, to pick apart his actions. He was the Shadowhand here, yes, but that did not mean he had to examine Yussa because the other elf had started to act odd. Essek was half afraid that any head way he’d made with the elf had just been destroyed. The Mighty Nein had helped with his social skills, but not by much. They were, after all, still the Mighty Nein. So instead of poking and prodding and pulling, Essek gave a half bow and said, “I would be delighted,” then floated out of the work room. Yussa closed the door behind him with a soft but final thud.

Essek made his way to the receiving room, where Wensforth paced. The goblin jumped slightly at his entrance, and looked at him hopeful. “Is the plan working?” His words where a hushed whisper. 

“So far, yes. Though I’m afraid I’ve hit a sore spot.” He smiled sadly, “But that is to be expected. All wizards have there sore spots. Yussa mentioned the possibility of tea and food?”

“Oh,” Wensforth nodded, eyes peering at the doorway. “And where is the master?”

“Making me a list.”

“Ahh, well then, tea and cakes will be here in a jiff.” The goblin, fast for his apparent age, left in a hurry.

Essek sighed and allowed his mask to drop, floating over to a chair and settling in the cushions. He closed his eyes for a second, allowing the thoughts to run through his head. Then there was the whisper of magic, and touch against his ear. He shot to attention.  _ “Heeeeyyyy Essek! It’s me! I was wondering how you were doing in Nicodranous! Are you having fun? Did you visit my mom? Find any cute -” _

Essek laughed softly. “Hello Jester, I’m having fun, I have not visited your mother, and your message got cut off.” 

Another brush of magic.  _ “Well I was going to say have you met any cute people? Visited the ocean? Eaten a pastry? Are you still in the tower? Caleb -” _

“One person, no, no, and yes. You got cut off.”

_ “- wants an update if possible. But you don’t have too. Oh! Who's the cute person! Wait! Let me guess. The Traveller. Fjord. Yussa? Wensforth? Pastries!” _

A flash of gold in the doorway, and Essek pulled his mask back up. “Talk later, busy now.” Then he turned to Yussa and smiled. “The list?”

“Here. Where is that goblin?” Yussa stepped in, a piece of paper clutched in his hand.

“Here!” Wensforth rushed in, a tray filled with steaming cups and a plate of cookies in his hands. He set the tray on the table, stood there for a second, then rushed out again.

“Thank you,” Essek called, taking his cup in his hands and taking a sip. It was a very good tea. 

Yussa sat in a chair opposite of him, took a cookie in one hand, held out the paper in the other. “Here you are. A list of everyone you should approach that has connections to the Clovis Concord.” There was something in his voice, a tightness in his voice that made Essek look at him closely. He was stiff, but hiding it, his eyes guarded, face expressionless. The facade hurt.

He really had messed up somehow.

Essek set his teacup down and reached out and took the paper, his fingers brushed Yussa’s and the other elf pulled back to fast. The hurt feeling in his gut twisted slightly sharper. “Thank you, this will be enormously helpful.” Essek’s voice hinted at nothing, the words polite, his own mask up completely now.

Yussa nibbled on his cookie and took a sip of his tea. “I think you should leave for today.”

The hurt twisted sharper. “I already planned to, I have stuff I must do myself.” He drained his tea, stood and looked down at the other elf while he floated. “I can see myself out.” He allowed his voice to warm, allowed it to show the faintest hint of hope. “Until tomorrow then?”

Yussa met his eyes, the golden orbs were glowing, just faintly, but it was there. His expression warmed slightly, and Essek felt his heart leap. Perhaps his misstep could be fixed. “Until tomorrow.” He hesitated, then gave a weary smile, “Just message me before you come.”

“Of course, tell Wensforth that the tea was excellent.” The he turned, and floated out of the room, his heart heavy, but not as heavy as it could have been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I emphasize with Jester's problems with sending.


	7. Chapter Sieben

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Once again thanks so much for all your comments and kudos! They really make my day.

For a while Yussa did nothing, just sat and stared at the cookie in his hand, mind blank and shoulders slumped. He felt numb, scoured, his elfin form ill fitting, like clothes that were too tight. Finally, he set his cookie down and picked up his tea cup, took a sip, and made a face. The tea was cold, just how long had he been sitting there? “Wensforth,” he called, his voice slightly shaky.

Wensforth scuttled out from the doorway, where he had been for the last ten minutes watching his employer nervously, and into the room. “Yes?” He asked nervously, wringing his hands.

“A new pot of te - No,” he stood and brushed out his robes, “I will be in the lower levels. Do not disturb me.”

Wensforth gulped, whenever Yussa took to the lower levels, it meant he was taking his other form. And although gold dragons were supposed to be good, Yussa’s true form had entirely too many sharp, bright white teeth for Wensforth’s comfort. “Of course, sir. Eh,” he hesitated a moment then went on, “Was it necessary to kick Essek out like that?” 

Yussa winced, then said, “No, I just,” he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, “He asked a question that dug deeper then I think he anticipated, and I remembered something. That is all.”

Wensforth gathered up his bravery once again. “It must have been one hell of a question then.”

Yussa’s ears flicked slightly, “You could say that.” With that he swept out of the room, golden robes trailing after him, leaving a confused and worried Wensforth behind him.

He made his way down, to where the lower levels of the tower lay below ground. These were natural caverns, large enough to hold his true form with room to spare, made comfortable by years of magical crafting. As soon as he was down, he shifted, it was almost instantaneous, the sound of displaced air, the slight hum as his form settled. Golden scales glinted softly in the dark, and with a whispered word in draconic, the globes in their niches in the walls started to glow with a steady light. Down here were the things he deemed too important to store in his tower. Books and scrolls so old that the paper would disintegrate at the lightest touch, all held in stasis spells to protect them. Relics whose magic was dangerous in the wrong hands. And of course the piles of gold and silver and platinum that could not fit in the tower. For a second he stared at one such pile, then made a face.

It wasn’t as if he actively tried to collect the coins, it just kind of happened. 

With a sigh, Yussa slunk through the halls, watching the lights catch on the glowing orbs of power, on the curved metal edges of weapons, or on the intricate twists and turns of relics. The opulence down here was stunning, and completely accidental. It had just built up over the centuries, and before he had realized it, he was living in luxury. He’d just gone with it, and had settled down in Nicodranous to stay.

_ “Why not?” _ Essek’s words played around in his mind, repeating over and over in his soft voice. _ “Why not?” “Why not?” “Why not?” _

He didn’t leave the tower because when he did, he made people nervous. Most specifically, the Clovis Concord. It was all fine and dandy having a dragon in your town, as long as it was a dragon who agreed to obey the rules. But Yussa had a tendency to not follow the rules when they got in his way, and that made the Clovis Concord uneasy. He could leave the tower, technically, but it made things awkward when he did so, so he just stayed, and if he needed to go somewhere, he teleported. But he didn’t need to do that often.

And so the tower had become a mystery, and the wizard inside an even greater one.

But his self-imposed semi-exile wasn’t the only thing that Essek’s question had dredged up. His question had made Yussa keenly aware of what was going on between him and the other wizard, and that had sent him into a mild panic befitting of a dragon his age. Honestly! He wasn’t one hundred, easily distracted by a pretty face and clever words, he was older and wiser then that! But Essek had made him forget that fact, and that was dangerous. Very dangerous.

Yussa was old enough to know that nothing good came from getting attached to mortals. Wensforth was an exception to his rule of not getting attached, his family had been in Yussa’s employ for generations after all. Yet the goblin was approaching the end, and he did not have a successor. His death would hurt enough, Yussa did not want to chance another parting on a deathbed. It would be better to not get attached, to keep an emotional distance. It would be hard to do, but it would be for the best.

With a sigh, the dragon whispered the notes of a spell, picked up one of his fragile books, and then began to read.

. . .

The first thing Essek did was check in with the Bright Queen and give her an update. The second thing he did was find out if the dick in his office had been found yet. It hadn’t. The third thing he did was make his way home, and lock his door behind him. The fourth thing he did was take his mantle and cloak off and let his feet hit the floor. For a second he stumbled, but the braces on his legs helped him regain his balance. The fifth thing he did was make his way to his room and collapse face first into his pillow.

He was tired, his shoulders ached from the weight of his mantle, and his eyes stung. Essek was used to working in almost complete darkness, with only a few lights to brighten up some of the darker corners of his workspace. Yussa’s place had been bright, so bright that the darkness of his rooms and the city itself was a relief. 

He lifted his head and pulled out the note with the names of the best people to contact. Each name was written in an elegant script, with a short description beside it. Five names, he could do it, he had plenty of spells left. And it wasn’t that late, he’d stayed up later working before. He got up and made his way unsteadily to his desk, sat down, grabbed a notebook and pen and ink, and flipped the notebook to a blank page. With a weary sigh, he started the first sending spell.

Later, after the dates for meetings for the five had been written down into the book, Essek made his way to his bed again and started to unbuckle his braces. His mind whirred. He would have to take the map of Nicodranous tomorrow, and a parasol. But which one to take? The new one Jester had sent him was more befitting the status of the Shadowhand of Xhorhas, if the conspicuous amounts of lace were ignored. But he was quite fond of the first parasol given to him, however, it had been worn down by the years, and still needed to be fixed up. 

He finished unbuckling his braces and leaned them against his bedside table, and lay down fully onto his bed. Which would Yussa - no, that wasn’t important. He had meetings tomorrow, important ones. Making an impression was the important bit. Representing the Bright Queen was the important bit. What Yussa thought held no sway in this decision. The black one it would be. Essek sighed, and let a small smile cross his lips as he closed his eyes and drifted off into sleep, thinking of what tomorrow could bring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Essek with a parasol is cannon now. Thank you Jester.


	8. Chapter Acht

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Thank you so much for the comments and kudos. You all are the best!

Essek woke up gasping, the scent of blood in his nose, the coppery taste of it thick on his tongue, fiery pain arching down his back and arms. For a few seconds he lay there on his bed, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling, chest heaving with restrained panic. It was the same dream, one he’d had many times before, the one where he’d been discovered. Sometimes his torturers spoke with Zemnian voices, sometimes they spoke in his own speech, undercommon. Each dream left him panicked and afraid, laying frozen on his bed waiting for someone to burst in and take him away.

Even years later, long after every loose string had been supposedly tied, his fear of discovery still rose to choke him at night. Every year, every day, it became a little bit easier to breathe, but the fear of discovery also grew greater. Even now, he was afraid that his tracks hadn’t been covered properly, and that fear appeared in his nightmares, dark and twisted and oh so real. The persona of Lord Desran Thane had not been touched for years, but there was always that terror of it being uncovered, and it was always hovering in the edges of his mind, preying on his subconciouss. 

Perhaps he should accept Caleb’s proposal. The thought of it was tempting, to stay with his friends, to just leave Xhorhas, to no longer have to deal with politics and to finally bury his fear in the past where it belonged. But Essek was no fool. As the Shadowhand, he could control what people knew, and though the case of the traitor was supposedly closed, people were always suspicious, always watching for him to slip up. In many ways it was safer to stay the Sadowhand, leaving before he was forced would seem suspicious, as well as bring dishonor to his den. But Essek didn’t want that. He wanted to accept Caleb’s proposal, to teach at his school, to be a part of the Mighty Nein again. And perhaps one day he would. 

But not now.

With a sigh, Essek pushed himself up and rubbed a hand through his hair. He would be busy today, he had to exchange a spell with Yussa, and he had two meetings to attend to. He would have to dress to his station, and the challenge offered a welcome distraction from the lingering traces of panic. In the end, he chose a dark purple tunic with silver embroidery, dark grey pants, and shiny black boots wide enough to fit over his braces. He pulled his sliver mantle and dark cloak on, quickly doing the silver clasps on the front. After a second’s thought, he concentrated, and silver and gold geometric patterns started to bloom on the loose sleeves and across his chest and back. He put on his jewelry, the fancy ear cuffs and chains, and the couple of rings he owned. He ran a line of gold paint across his eyelids, and brushed glitter over his cheekbones, then looked in the mirror. He now wore his classic Shadowhand garb, but he still looked tired and worn, and the traces of panic shone bright in his eyes. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, they were the cold, arrogant, aloof eyes of the Shadowhand.

He still didn’t feel like the Shadowhand.

He hadn’t felt like the Shadowhand in the longest time.

Essek took another steading breath, and then he turned to leave the room. He paused, a glint of gold catching his eye in the jewelry box. Two gold rings lay there in the box, given to him by his mother when he’d become Shadowhand. His mother liked bright colors, and had not been happy when he’d visited in his black and silver clothes. The gold rings were her way of saying that gold was a perfectly respectful color that gave off the air of being powerful without being dull. It was because of her that he’d started wearing gold in the first place. He turned, then glided back to the box, switching out his two silver rings for the gold ones. They reminded him, for a second, of Yussa’s eyes.

Essek shook his head to get rid of the thought, then went to collect his black parasol. It was time.

. . .

Yussa fell asleep in his hoard, the fragile book he’d been reading had been placed back into its protective spell. He dreamed of days long past, of old friends who were now dead and gone, of the quick lives of the mortals around him, flowing, ever flowing. He woke with conviction. Essek may be pretty and clever, but Yussa would not let those facts get under his scales. He would stay distant, aloof, a fellow wizard and nothing more.

With that in mind, he shifted back into his elfin form, and went to get put on some clean clothes. With that in mind, he put on one of his less impressive golden robes, and braided his hair in a simple braid, nothing overly fancy. With that in mind, he chose his spell of the day. Which was harder than it sounded because if he wanted to win this competition, his spell would have to be impressive, showy. Or perhaps he could go more utilitarian with his spells . . . the possibilities were endless.

He considered this through breakfast, while Wensforth watched him with knowing eyes. Finally, the dragon snapped, “What is it, Wensforth?”

“Nothing,” the goblin said, “you just look very understated today, that’s all, especially since you will be hosting an important government official from another state.” He said it all innocently, with a warble of nervousness, but the glint in his eyes said he knew exactly what he was talking about.

Yussa almost groaned. Wensforth was in one of those moods, the ones where he talked back and looked for reasons for anything. He swore that it was happening more and more now. The goblin was getting nosier and less fearful the older he got. “And I assume you wish for me to dress up.”

“Well, it wouldn’t hurt.” Wensforth said, then his eyes widened, and his next words tripped over each other, “Of course, that is only if you want to, it’s your choice, of course. What you choose to look like is your affair, not mine.”

Yussa sighed, placing a hand over his eyes. “Calm down Wensforth, I’m not going to eat you.”

“Well, when you get that glint in your eye, it’s kind of hard to remember that.”

Impertinent goblin. “I think it’s best if Willi serves me today, so we can keep the confrontations to a minimum.”

“Ah, yes, good idea.” Wensforth scuttled off, and Yussa sighed. Was he really that transparent? He took another bite of his food, considering the goblin’s words. On some level, Wensforth was right. Yussa was going to be hosting an important government official from another country. Did he really want to look like he did now?

There was the brush of spellwork that heralded the sending spell, and then Essek’s voice could be heard, soft and collected, as if the elf was standing right behind him and was murmuring into his ear. “I hope I am not interrupting anything important, but is this a good time to come over?”

Yussa swallowed. “Of course, you may join me for breakfast if you wish. I know Wensforth made extras.” The extras were technically for Yussa, but he could deal with a little bit of hunger. He clapped his hands sharply. “Willi?” There was the soft thud of feet, and then the golem entered the room. Normally he stayed below with the other artifacts, cleaning what needed to be cleaned down there. Unlike Wensforth, Willi was part of Yussa’s hoard, and therefore was allowed near the more fragile and more dangerous things he kept below. “We will have a guest soon. Go upstairs to the teleportation chamber and escort him here, understand?”

The golem didn’t nod, but he did turn and walk out of the room. Yussa hummed and toyed with the edge of his braid. It was too late to change now. Even if he wanted to, of course. He scowled vaguely down at his food. Spell. He was choosing a spell to win the competition. He was not fretting over how he looked. He was not.

With effort, he smoothed away his scowl and continued to eat. He was just leaning back to take a long drink of his tea when Willi came stomping into the room, Essek gliding in behind him. Yussa nearly choked. The drow glittered softly in the light, from his ornate jewelry to the embroidery on his cloak. In his hands he held a black parasol with a conspicuous amount of lace. His face was composed in a mask of slight indifference, but his silver and red eyes were warm when they regarded Yussa. “Good morning,” he said, his voice soft and low.

Yussa swallowed nervously as his draconic instincts tried to rise to the surface. Essek was so . . . shiny today, and, well, dragons in general liked shiny things. They liked shiny things very much. And Essek was pulling off being shiny very well. How in the Nine Hells was Yussa supposed to stay indifferent with Essek looking like that? With tremendous effort, Yussa managed to marshal his words. “Good morning to you too. Is something important happening today that I am unaware of? I seem to be slightly under-dressed.”

“Besides visiting you, you mean?” Essek said, his eyes twinkling with what might have been mischief, but then the look of mischief fell away to be replaced by the mask once again, gliding over to take a seat opposite of Yussa’s, and the dragon couldn’t help but feel suddenly, well, lonely. “I do have a couple of important meetings today, thanks to you. Your help has been truly invaluable, and I wouldn’t worry about looking under-dressed.” He smiled coyly, a hint of a canine peaking out, “You look lovely.”

Do not blush. Do not blush. Yussa swallowed, “Thank you for the compliment. Take what you want from the table, it’s all quite good, I assure you. Wensforth is a marvelous cook. Is that a new cloak, an illusion, or just another function of the cloak?” He was rambling. Why was he rambling? He needed to stop rambling!

“Thank you for your hospitality, it is much appreciated. And the changing patterns is just another function of the cloak. If you’re going to make something float, might as well make it do other things.” He hesitated, “Ah, is there a plate I can use?”

“Oh, yes, uh, Willi, get us another plate if you will.” The golem turned and marched off towards the kitchens.

“What,” Said Essek, watching the golem leave the room, “no Wensforth today?”

“Wensforth has a day off today. Do not worry, Willi is an adequate substitute.”

“Willi, eh? An interesting contraption. Where did you get him?” Essek leaned forward slightly, his chin resting on one hand. 

“From Caleb,” Yussa said, trying to ignore how Essek’s eyes were focused solely on him. “The Mighty Nein made him in the Archmage’s Bane, and then ended up leaving him with me for repairs. He became a second assistant of sorts, and eventually Caleb gave me full command of him in exchange for a spell.”

Something flashed across Essek’s face, there and gone in a second. Then he was straightening as WIlli marched back into the room, carrying a plate for Essek. The drow reached out, murmuring a soft thank you as he did so, and Yussa found himself watching the movement. He pulled his eyes away quickly, cursing inwardly. Oh why did Essek have to be all shiny, today of all days? Oh well, he would suffer in silence. It shouldn't be that hard to do.

. . .

Essek took the plate, saying thank you as he did so, and for a second he could have sworn that Willi’s eyes glowed with acknowledgement, and then the moment was gone, and the golem was marching back to his position by the wall. Essek filled his plate with the variety of food available, settling back into his seat. He noticed that there was a set of clean utensils available on the table, Willi’s work? Or had Yussa lied about Wensforth’s day off? 

Speaking of Yussa . . .

There was something off about the wizard today. A nervousness that didn’t fit, and though Essek could feel Yussa watching him, he wouldn’t meet his eyes. A left over from whatever sensitive spot he had poked yesterday? Or was it something more? He took a bite of his meal and nodded appreciatively. “Please give my compliments to Wensforth. The food is delicious.”

“I will,” said Yussa, playing with the empty tea cup in his hand, his eyes darting around the room in an effort to not meet Essek’s gaze. And Essek missed those golden eyes on his, the direct, challenging stare of someone who was certain he could not be beaten in their little game. 

What was going on?

Well, whatever it was, hopefully it wouldn’t impede their competition. Winning was fine, but winning because his opponent was too distracted to focus was different. “If this is not a good time for you . . .” Essek said, setting his fork down on his plate, letting his words trail off so Yussa could finish them.

The other elf’s head jerked up, his golden eyes wide and surprised, little bits of escaped hair flew around his face, and Essek’s fingers ached to smooth them back. “Oh, no!” 

Essek held his gaze with his own, “If something has come up, I understand.”

“No, it’s not that,” Yussa coughed slightly, then met his eyes fully, and though Essek knew it had to be a trick of the light, Yussa’s golden orbs seemed to glow. “I slept badly last night, so forgive me if I may seem a little distracted.”

“Ah, I understand,” Essek said, letting Yussa’s lie slip by. And it was a lie, Essek knew that for certain. Lies were his job, after all. But if Yussa wasn’t going to tell him what was going on, then Essek wasn’t going to push. He set his plate down on the table, suddenly uncomfortable with the awkward silence. He picked up his parasol and held it in one hand. “If you are ready?”

“Now?” Yussa asked, hurriedly standing up, “but you haven’t finished eating yet.”

Essek chuckled softly, “I’m fine, I had breakfast before contacting you.”

“Oh.”

“But the chance to taste the food from Nicodranous again was something I could not give up.” Essek smiled at him, and Yussa smiled back, chuckling slightly.

“I know what you mean, it is something to behold.” Oh? So Yussa had not grown up in Nicodranous then? Yussa clapped his hands once sharply, “Willi, clean this up, then meet us in the workshop.” He turned to Essek, and his previous nervousness had disappeared under a layer of eagerness. “Shall we?”

Essek bowed slightly, one arm sweeping out, “After you, master mage.”


	9. Chapter Neun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Thank you all for your comments and kudos! You people are the best.

Master mage. Those words rang in Yussa’s mind with every step he took. He could feel Essek’s presence behind him, hear his soft even breaths, the clink of his earrings, the brush of his cloak. He could smell him too, a soft scent of incense and parchment, and something else, something he couldn’t name. Yussa blinked, then restrained a frustrated growl. Essek had barely been here for twenty minutes, and already Yussa’s conviction was wavering, cracking, spinning out of his control.

And he still didn’t know what spell he was going to exchange with Essek.

“Do you know what Willi’s name means in Zemnian?” Essek asked, voice drifting and rebounding of the walls and steps.

“No, I didn’t ask. You know Zemnian?”

Essek chuckled. “Probably for the best that you didn’t ask. And yes, I do. I’m not completely proficient, but I know enough to stumble through a conversation. Caleb taught me.” There was a warmth in his voice that Yussa knew. His own voice had once carried that warmth for someone else, though that had been a long time ago.

See? Even if Yussa was going to pursue the feelings Essek stirred up, he wouldn’t get anywhere. The drow was obviously romantically entangled with Caleb. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Relieved? Disappointed? Jealous? He pushed open the door to his study and held it open for the drow as he glided through the doorway. “Now I’m curious. What does Willi mean?”

Essek stopped, meeting Yussa’s eyes. His jewelry glittered gently in the light, and his eyes glowed with what could only be amused mischief. “You don’t want to know.”

Yussa sighed, “The more you say that, the more I do want to know.”

“It means,” he hesitated, “It means-”

“Yes?”

“It means that it is short for William.” Essek grinned, eyes dancing.

Yussa sighed and closed his eyes. That had been childish, but he felt like smiling anyway. Wensforth didn’t make jokes, not really. Neither did Willi. “I actually thought for a second there that it would be something inappropriate.”

“Oh please, give me some class. I’m not Jester.” Essek smiled at him and swept into the room, robes fluttering in his wake. Yussa followed him in, letting the door shut behind him. Essek had floated over to where Hala’s gem was imprisoned, leaning over and examining the protection spell. “Wouldn’t it be better to keep him in a pocket dimension? Keeping him out here seems like tempting fate.”

Yussa let his eyes rest on Essek’s form for a moment. It was true, Essek was no Jester, who would have spun the name Willi into something entirely inappropriate. “I did keep him in a pocket dimension for a while, but I feel more at ease if he’s somewhere I can see him. I know he can’t do anything while stuck in a ruby, but he is a renowned wizard of a high caliber, I wouldn’t put it past his abilities. I would prefer to keep him in a place where I can keep my eyes on him.” It was simple paranoia, but Yussa would take being paranoid over being caught in one of Halas’s schemes any day.

. . .

In his gem, Halas couldn’t help but feel flattered. Unfortunately, Yussa was wrong, and he couldn’t do anything as he was now. Even if he had thought up of a plan. Which he hadn’t. His release was completely dependent on the whims of others. Which wasn’t very helpful.

. . .

Essek eyed the gem carefully. He got where Yussa was coming from, but personally, he would have kept Halas in a pocket dimension. Having the gem out in the open like this was too tempting. Halas held the secrets of an age which had long since passed, the knowledge he contained must be massive indeed. Especially since he had the power to create something as dangerous as the Archmage’s Bane.

And Yussa, according to Caleb, had already proven that he was susceptible to curiosity. Even if he should know better.

Essek turned away from the red gem, and faced Yussa, who had pulled open his spellbook and was flipping through the pages. His long fingers gripped the edges of the book, the angles of his face were defined by shadows and light, his pale hair was escaping his braid. He looked oddly out of sorts, and Essek wondered if Yussa had nightmares too. He wondered if they were anything like his own. 

“Well then,” he said, pressing his hands together and intertwining his fingers. “Who shall begin, you or me?”

Yussa eye’s flicked up to him, the golden orbs glowing, and once again Essek couldn’t help but get the feeling that there was something alien and old staring at him. It was an uncanny feeling, breathtaking. The moment couldn’t have lasted for more than a second, but it seemed to stretch out forever, an endless period of time where it was just him and Yussa. Then Yussa snapped his spellbook shut, and the moment ended abruptly. “If you wouldn’t mind, I would like you to go first.”

“So you know what you’ll have to one up?” Essek smirked faintly, setting his parasol on the table by Halas’s ruby. “Good for you, you’ll need every advantage you can get.”

Yussa’s eyes flashed. “So confident,” he purred, and his tone sent an electric charge crackling down Essek’s spine, “Do you really think I will be that easy to defeat?”

“I hope not,” Essek said, forcing the rising heat in his cheeks down. “Otherwise what would be the point of the challenge?”

“What indeed?” Yussa said, and once again he was looking at Essek oddly. It was an hungry, almost possessive look, and Essek had to resist the urge to move away from that predatory gaze.

He almost coughed, almost looked away, but he restrained the urge and instead summoned his spell book, flipping through the pages quickly. He was the Shadowhand. He didn’t get unnerved. “The spell I chose for today is another simple one in usage, but complicated in theory. I believe that you will find that it has as many applications as there are stars in the sky.”

“Oh really?” Yussa seemed faintly amused.

Essek smiled at him, “Oh yes,” he stepped forwards, closer to the other wizard. “If you don’t mind?”

Yussa’s nostrils flared, and his pupils dilated slightly. “Not at all,” he murmured, voice barely a whisper. “Go right ahead.”

Essek went through the motions of the spell, drawing the geometric shapes in the air, murmuring the incantation in undercommon. For a second, the geometric pattern hung in the air, glittering and giving off a soft silver light, then it compressed into a small grey mote of light and sunk into the space between Yussa’s eyes. “Congratulations,” Essek said softly, “In the next hour you can bend time once.” He glided back a few steps, before he did anything too rash. He’d been too close, and Yussa’s proximity was making his head swim.

Yussa blinked, taking in a deep, shuddering breath. “I’m sorry?” He said, blinking rapidly. He seemed disconcerted, uncertain. But then the moment was gone. 

Essek couldn’t help but be proud. He’d already knocked Yussa off kilter, his spell, though simple, had been so unexpected that the other wizard was having trouble grasping it. In that state of mind, Yussa might make a slip when choosing his spell to share. Essek smirked at him faintly, “I gave you a Fragment of Possibility. Once during the next hour, you can change the future. For example, you could be trying to finish a spell that you took from an old wizard's lair, and at one part, you could find yourself unable to continue. If you spend your Fragment, you could rewind time, and then your failure at understanding could become a success.”

“How useful,” Yussa said. He seemed to be recovering from his momentary confusion. “And what is the spell’s name?”

“Fortune’s Favor.” Essek said, motioning for his book to move over to Yussa’s side so he could examine it.

“I see,” he murmured, flipping his own spellbook to a blank page and then touching his finger to Essek’s book. A few seconds later, Fortune’s favor was in his spellbook, and any backup spellbook he had. Essek couldn’t help but be pleased that his spells and handwriting were taking up space in Yussa’s spellbook. It was a silly feeling, but it was there nonetheless.

Yussa flipped back to whatever page he’d been on, then looked at Essek, eyes sharp, a smile on his face. His teeth, Essek noticed, were very, very white. “My turn.”

. . .

Halas caught the reference, even if Yussa did not. He remembered the goblin asking about his spell, the one that changed a person's body to their ideal self. He felt like sitting down, even if he couldn't. It had been completed, his spell had been completed! And it was no doubt being used under anothers name. And this Essek had helped complete it. He was in awe, most people couldn’t follow his work or his way of thinking, but someone had managed. It was finished. His work on that idea was complete. How did it look? How effective was it?

But he was also furious. That group, The Mighty Nein, had stolen his work and were no doubt pandering it about as their own. And this Essek had helped them. In his ruby, he fumed, wishing that someone would pick him up so he could give them a piece of his mind. 

And so, angry and hurt, he began to plot. Yussa thought him smart enough to escape? Well, all he would need was one chance. One chance and that was it.

. . .

Yussa was left bereft, a boat lonely on a stormy sea, by Essek’s sudden absence. He was still taking in deep breaths, trying to name that mysterious component in Essek’s scent. But it kept on alluding him. He bit the inside of his cheek as he copied the spell from Essek’s spellbook into his own. Aloof, composed, that was what he was supposed to be. Not a frazzled mess distracted by every interesting smell. He flipped to the spell he had chosen for today, then he looked up and smiled. “My turn.”

Essek smiled back, his eyes bright. “I’m interested to see what you cooked up.”

Yussa’s smile widened, all teeth and eagerness now. Not exactly aloof, but it was better than being knocked off balance. He held up a hand and drew the motion in the air, the rhythmic chanting falling from his lips. As his chanting came to a close, he snapped his fingers, and they appeared. Ten tiny figures, each one was about half the size of Wensforth and looked like they’d been sculpted from clay. They wandered around the room aimlessly, pawing at the air and ducking around and under tables.

Essek examined the one that had stopped in front of him curiously. “And what are these?” He asked, reaching out one hand. The little creature raised his and touched Essek’s fingers. “I assume they have more of a use than being charming.”

Charming. He thought the spell was charming. Yussa bit the corner of his lip, once again knocked off kilter. It had to be Essek’s shininess that was doing it. Yes, that was it, how could be expected to function properly while Essek was deck up in all that finery? “Oh, they do,” he said, “I can cast a spell from each one, though the spell can’t be too powerful and they disappear afterwards. I can also do this,” he clapped his hands twice and the ten creatures stopped what they were doing and rushed towards each other, melding into one solid mass that rose up taller than either of the wizards. “In this form they are more durable, and can act as additional muscle if needed. Unfortunately, I can’t cast spells through them in this form.”

Essek stared up at the creation, eyes gleaming, head tilted to the side. His silver eyes caught the light, and the red of his pupils flashed. “It seems I’ve been outdone. I will have to step up my game.” He smiled, the tip of one canine peeking out, “And what is the name of the spell?”

Yussa shifted uncertainty, suddenly embarrassed. “Dragon Bait,” he muttered.

Essek’s head snapped towards him, “Dragon Bait? Now that sounds like a story. Do tell.”

Yussa turned away, fiddling with the artifact on the table. “When I was younger, I used to travel, and I was part of an adventuring party.” It had been his chance to start his hoard, to learn about the world around him. “We signed a contract to kill a black dragon, and I created this spell to be a distraction while we got into position.” It wasn’t as if he could have shifted and taken down the dragen. He’d been too young to take on the other dragon, and the party hadn’t known about his true form. 

“And did it succeed?”

Yussa chuckled, “Surprisingly, yes it did. Things worked out very well.” He could feel the smile grace his lips as the memory rose of their celebratory dinner. And the night that came afterwards. The twinkle in Milah’s eyes and the delighted smile that had graced her lips. Then he forced the memories out of his mind, and turned to look at Essek. “You don’t seem particularly concerned with your loss.”

Essek was circling the creation now, reaching out and prodding it in spots. It was looking at Yussa with an odd expression on it’s clay face, and the dragon could have sworn that it was asking for help. “Perhaps,” mused Essek, glancing at Yussa over his shoulder, “Because I have a trump card. I do believe it is time to get this spell inscribed, I have a meeting in a little bit, and I would like to know the area before settling down to business.”

“Of course,” Yussa handed Essek his spellbook, “Who are you meeting with today?”

Essek motioned his hand, and his spellbook floated over, pages flipping until a blank one was presented. “I’ll tell you when the meeting is over. National security, you know how it goes.”

“National security? I gave you that list.”

Essek just smiled, setting down Yussa’s spell book and placing a hand on the page. He started to murmur, and the gold ring on his finger turned black. He was using Yussa’s spell, and Yussa couldn’t help but feel ridiculously happy. As if that one little act marked Essek as his. He closed his eyes and forced away that thought. Essek was a person, not a thing to be added to his hoard. Besides, he was certain that Essek carried spells of Caleb’s creation in that book. 

Jealousy pricked him, and suddenly Yussa was furious with himself. Aloof, composed. He needed to focus.

The sound of a book snapping shut woke Yussa to reality, and he opened his eyes to see Essek handing over his spellbook. He caught a whiff of the drow’s scent and for a moment his composure scattered. Then it was back again, and Essek was collecting his parasol. He turned, silver eyes gleaming. “Well then, on to business.”

“Yes,” Yussa opened the door and called. “Willi, escort our guest out.” He turned back to Essek, “Will you be returning today?”

Essek considered the question, then shook his head, his jewelry jangling softly, “Not today, after my meeting I will have to head straight home to make my report.”

“Ah,” he tried to hide his disappointment, “See you tomorrow, then. And please, come early for breakfast. My treat.” He smiled.

Essek smiled back, there was the sound of heavy footfalls against stone. “Until tomorrow.” And then he swept out of the room, robes trailing behind him. Gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @decaying_orbit: I'm so happy I've inspired somebody else to consider writing something for this pairing! And surpised! I am totally fine if you want to use the Yussa is a gold dragon theory.  
@readers in general: If anyone has any ideas for spells that Yussa or Essek might have, please share! I am struggling! I will make sure to tag you in the notes if I do end up using them. Have a good day!


	10. Chapter Zehn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again thank you all for your support!

The daylight was bright, almost too bright, and immediately Essek’s eyes watered from pain. He opened his parasol, grateful for the shadow it cast on his face, protecting his sensitive skin and eyes. He then pulled out Jester’s map, locating his meeting spot with some difficulty. It would be in the Opal Archways district, close to the Lavish Chateau. Perhaps, after his meeting he could visit Jester’s mother. He’d caught a bit of her singing at the party, and it had truly been marvelous. Then he winced, memories of that party flashing through his mind. That had not been his best moment. 

With a sigh, Essek rolled up the map and slipped it into his robe, then he headed down the street towards the meeting point. There, he would speak to a representative of the Marquis, and eventually he would work his way up to the Marquis himself. All while keeping the fact hidden that he had already met the Marquis in a different form, as well as others with important connections to the Clovis Concord. The thought nearly made him freeze, panic bubbling up in the back of his throat.

Why had he agreed to Caleb’s request again? This adventure of his was pulling strings that he did not want to be pulled, digging up things that he would prefer remain buried. And somehow he hadn’t realized that until now. He had made a mistake agreeing to Caleb’s request, he would have to make sure not to make anymore. It could prove disastrous.

With that cheery thought lingering in his mind, he tuned back into his surroundings. The streets were clean, the people friendly, the buildings painted in cheerful colors. There was the scent of baking bread in the air, the call of traders as they vied for the most customers, and distantly he could hear the roar of the ocean. No doubt it was a beautiful day, but he would have preferred for it to be cloudy. Even with the parasol, the light was almost too much for him. Briefly he entertained the conversation he would have with Leylas if he returned now. “I’m sorry my queen, trade with the Clovis Concord is impossible. It’s simply too bright.” 

He doubted that excuse would pass with her.

He made his way through the Open Quay and toward the Opal Archways, watching the people on the streets and their reactions towards him. Nicodranus was more varied in race than the Empire, but there were still double takes at the sight of a lone drow floating down the street. Most people ignored him or stared, but a few hurried their pace and even more openly glared at him. It hadn’t been that long since war had loomed upon this city as well, after all.

The streets changed, open air vendors to storefronts, clean streets to glistening cobblestones, normal buildings to fancy, opulent ones, normal people to ones clothed in well made fabrics. There were even a few adventuring parties, probably looking around for magic items they could use in their travels. Or, and here he chuckled, looking for paper and ink for their wizard. One such group drew his eye, one that was managing to garner more attention then him as they traversed the street. The group was made up of a tall black dragonborn who was looking nervously around, a halfing with pots and pans tied to her pack, a pale elf who breathed out ice crystals as if it wasn’t a warm day, a small drow with a bastard sword larger then he was, and a half drow pulling them along and peering into windows in a fashion that reminded him of Jester. The sight of Essek floating down the street was positively tame in comparison.

He chuckled and slowed his pace, stopping to look in windows to view the wares on display. He had some time before his meeting, and it might give him a slight advantage if the representative he met with saw that he was truly interested in what the Menagerie Coast had to offer. Finally, he drew to a stop in front of a store that sold various accessories. After a seconds hesitation, he went in, looking around curiously. The woman, who had pale skin and white hair tinted blue that stirred faintly in a nonexistent breeze, looked up from the behind the desk. “Good afternoon sir,” she said in a breathy voice, “may I help you?”

“Possibly,” Essek said, glancing around the shop, “I have sensitive eyes, and I was wondering if you had anything that could help.”

“Oh,” she said, understanding flashing in her colorless eyes, “I see. We have shades over there.” She pointed towards once side of the wall, were rows of spectacles lay. Each pair was fitted with tinted glass.

Essek raised an eyebrow, “Thank you,” he said, then floated over and started examining them.

“You’re welcome,” the woman said, turning back to her paperwork.

After a few seconds, Essek pulled out a pair and slipped them on. Immediately the room darkened. He pulled them off, smiling as he looked at them. Shades, huh? How useful. He picked out a pair, and then drifted over to the racks of parasols in the corner. One had caught his eyes, a light brown one with cream lace and gold embroidery. He picked it up and took it to the counter, placing it and the shades on the wood. “How much for these?”

The woman listed a price and he counted out his coins, handing them to her. “Would you like these wrapped?” She asked.

“The parasol, please.” He picked up the shades and slipped them on, “I’ll have need of these.”

She smiled faintly, then pulled out some paper and twine from under her desk. “We don’t get many drow in these parts.” She said it like it was just a comment and not a dig for more information.

He smiled faintly back and said, “True, but it is also true that genisi tend to be rare everywhere.”

She snorted, “Here you go, I hope you enjoy your day and your visit. Feel free to come back anytime.”

“I hope you too have a good day,” he said, bowing slightly as he took his parcel. Then he took his leave of the charming shop and continued on to the meeting point.

The meeting point was at a eatery near the Lavish Chateau, and there were few people there, which was probably why it had been chosen. However, the place looked well enough, clean and comfortable, just a little bit fancy. He didn’t see the person he was supposed to be meeting, so he supposed that he must have beat them there. He took a seat, ordered a drink and a pastry, and waited. Five minutes later, a human entered, straightening their jacket and running a hand over dreadlocks decorated with various beads. They headed Essek’s way, took a seat, and said. “Essek Theylas, I presume.”

Essek took a sip of his drink and then set it down, “However were you able to guess?”

They smirked faintly. “How indeed. I’m Jhola Chhag, and it’s nice to meet you.” They reached out with one and Essek took it, giving it a slight shake.”

“Delightful,” he said, “Will you be eating, or are you strictly business?”

They shrugged, waving a hand, “I’ll be eating, but I prefer to do business. So, Shadowhand, what do you believe you can offer us that will make us consider trading with Xhorhas? It wasn’t long ago when we might have been pulled into your war with the Empire.”

Essek smiled, keeping the roiling in his gut locked away, “Well. I believe that you will find what I have to say very enlightening. I will began with what we could offer you, and then, perhaps you could tell me how my country will benefit from trade with you. After all, business partnerships are best when both parties benefit.” He could do this, he had to do this. He couldn’t back out now, not when everyone was watching him.

Jhola, smirked, perhaps sensing his unease, perhaps not. “Well, onto business then.


	11. Chapter Elf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your comments and kudos!

Yussa shifted, his fingers grazing the Archmage’s Bane, tracing the swirls and the gears of the device. He wasn’t planning on going in, or even opening it. For once, it wasn’t curiosity that had driven him to this device, to investigate the curves and knots, but boredom. He was bored, very, very bored, and he ached for something to do. 

He twisted one gear, watching as others spun as this one clicked into place. There was a thunk as coins clattered onto the table, and he winced. More coins. He was sick and tired of coins. He had enough coins from the blue dragon’s hoard, but for some reason there were still more coins. Was there another dragon’s hoard in the halls? Or did Halas have some kind of secret stash that these coins were being pulled from? He swept the small pile into his hand, watching them glitter in the light. Well, he would put them with the rest of his coins.

For a second an idea hit him, and he sent off a quick detect magic. Practically everything in the room glowed, except the coins. Just normal coins, then, no fancy curses or magics. He wasn’t sure whether to be disappointed or relieved. “Well, Halas, didn’t curse your coins? Shame, seemed like something you would do.”

The ruby stayed silent, as rubies are prone to do.

Yussa sighed, shaking his head. Talking to wizards foolish enough to get stuck in gems was no way to pass the time. He would read and do some research. Now that he had a few dunamancy spells, he might be able to find the basis of that type of magic. The thought sparked off in his chest, a mix of excitement and relief. There had to be a mention of dunamancy somewhere in his collection, and that was more productive than fiddling with the Archmage’s Bane. 

He left the room, robes trailing behind him, only to stop in surprise. Wensforth’s, and Caleb’s, plan had been successful. The mysterious lure of dunamancy was currently stronger than the need to find out more from the Archmage’s Bane. To trace the artifact that he had collected back into the sphere itself. No matter, he was old, and would live a long life. There was plenty of time to figure out everything he wanted to know.

. . .

The next morning, Yussa walked into the parlor, his nose in a book. He took his seat, crossing his legs, eyes devouring the text before him. This particular tome was on old magics that predated the calamity, and the few that had survived or had branched into different things. It was quite interesting, and though Yussa had some memories of reading it before, the book was still intriguing, and even better, the writer had some sense of wit. 

A brush of magic touched his ear, and he looked up in shock. Essek’s familiar voice filtered through, and Yussa had to stop the pleased smile that threatened to crawl across his face. “Good morning, Yussa. I hope you are doing well. What time would be best for me to come over?” That was right, breakfast. He was treating Essek to breakfast. He had forgotten. He didn’t even have a spell ready for today.

“Good morning, I am doing very well. Breakfast should be ready in thirty minutes. If you would like to come over sooner, do so.” He winced slightly, worried that he had sounded too eager. “Wensforth,” he called, “Essek will be over for breakfast.”

He didn’t hear the goblin sigh, but he could imagine it.

Esseks voice came again. “Thank you for the invitation. I do believe I will partake.”

For a second Yussa floundered, wondering what to say. Then he mentally cursed himself. He was letting Essek do it again, get under his skin, captivate his mind, worry about every little thing. “That will be delightful.” He said, the image of Essek rising in his mind like a ghost. The drow was smiling, silver eyes glittering. This time, when Yussa cursed, it was aloud. He returned to his book, but what had once been captivating was now as dry as dust.

This was becoming a problem, a serious problem.

Five minutes of sluggish readling later, Essek glided into the room. With relief, Yussa noted that he wasn’t as decked up as yesterday, but some part of him mourned the loss of all the shiny. He closed his book and set it aside, smiling slightly at the drow as he hovered by the doorway. “Come on in, and please, make yourself comfortable. Do you not have any meetings today?”

Essek smiled slightly back and glided in, adjusting his robes as he sat down. Yussa noted that he did wear a ring, a gold one, and once again he felt that jab of prideful delight. Essek liked his spell. “Besides this one,” Essek said, interrupting Yussa’s train of thought, “No, I do not.” There was something in his voice, a tight blankness that Yussa couldn’t place.

“Did your meetings yesterday go well?”

Essek’s glorious silver eyes shifted, just slightly. “As well as to be expected from first contact.” He hesitated slightly, pressed his hands together, then leaned forwards, eyes searching Yussa’s face. For all his age and wisdom, Yussa had to resist the urge to squirm. In that briefest moment, he felt like a butterfly pinned to a wall. Essek tilted his head slightly, and a few strands of his white hair fell across his forehead. “You didn’t tell me you owned the Open Quay.” There was something off in his voice. Nothing accusing, but maybe a trace of distrust? Suspicion? Yussa was normally good at reading people, but Essek was different. More in-control of his body language, emotions hidden behind a carefully constructed mask.

“You didn’t ask,” Yussa said simply, making sure his posture screamed relaxation.

Essek chuckled softly, and the sound was like music to Yussa’s ears. “You’re right. I didn’t. Is that why the Clovis Concord dislikes you so much?”

“Part of the reason,” Yussa admitted, pressing his fingers together. He felt fidgety and nervous, his ears tuned to the sound of Essek’s voice, his eyes locked on Essek’s. For the longest moment he felt frozen in the moment, then Essek’s eyes landed on the book at Yussa’s side. 

“Is that-?”

“Yes, it is.” Yussa couldn’t help be slightly smug.

Essek made a small motion, as if he wanted to grab it. He hesitated, looked at Yussa with almost pleading eyes. “May I?”

Yussa swallowed, then reached out slowly and handed the book to Essek. Essek held it gently in his hands, turning the pages with reverent care. Yussa watched him, both captivated and torn by the sight. That was part of his hoard. His! Yet part of him reveled in watching the drow’s delighted face. He closed his eyes, ridiculous. He was being ridiculous. He needed to stop, as soon as possible. But when he opened his eyes again he couldn’t take them off Essek’s slim frame.

“I’ve heard of this book,” Essek murmured softly, pausing to read one a sentance, “but I never imagined that I might be able to hold it in my hands. How did you come across this?”

“I used to travel with an adventuring group,” Yussa admitted, “and we came across some ruins and decided to explore. We found that in a partially destroyed library. Most of the books had been ruined by the elements, but we got lucky. That one and a few others managed to escape most of the damage.”

“Amazing,” Essek murmured, closing the book and handing it back to Yussa. Yussa took it carefully, fighting the part of him that wanted to snatch it back, gently, he set it beside him. Essek watched the book mournfully. “Would it be okay if I borrowed it for a day or two? I would dearly love to read it.”

Yussa bit down on the immediate and sharp no that tried to force itself out of his mouth. “I’ll think about it,” he said instead.

Essek’s face didn’t fall, instead he leaned back and smiled. As if ‘I’ll think about it’ was practically a yes. “I appreciate it.”

Yussa’s heart did a flip inside his chest.

Then the doors burst open and Wensforth and Willi came in carrying breakfast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @Pom_Rania, the other adventuring party is based off of something! It's actually one of my gaming groups!


	12. Chapter Zwölf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your comments and kudos! I really appreciate it, and I hope you guys have a good day!

For Essek, breakfast went by in a blur. The two wizards skipped around topics, flowing from one to another without a pause, but the drow couldn’t stop himself from watching Yussa, from cataloging every movement he made. He had kept one secret to himself, how many more did he hide? It was true, Essek hadn’t asked, but Yussa knew Essek’s reason for visiting Nicodranas. Technically, Yussa was one of the people who Essek needed to talk too, their little competition notwithstanding. Yet he hadn’t. It was possible that it hadn’t crossed his mind, but then again, other things were possible too. What else was the wizard hiding, what else could Essek discover if he pried?

The possible answers scared him, but still, he set aside that curiosity for later. He would note all the times Yussa acted odd, and tried to form a picture using that. Anything more would be an invasion of privacy.

And Essek found that he didn’t want to invade Yussa's privacy.

But for now, he was eating a delicious breakfast and was in the middle discussing rare books.Yussa was talking avidly about an old tome he had reconstructed, and Essek was listening, fascinated by the subject. And well, fascinated by Yussa too. The elf’s long braid shifted with every move of his head, his golden eyes shown with a delight for the subject, and occasionally his hands would shift, as if he wanted to wave them in the air to emphasize his words. And Essek was cataloging every shift in his posture, every twitch in his lips as he struggled not to smile. 

It was undeniably fascinating.

“It sounds,” he said, setting his cup back down, “Like you’re enjoying yourself.”

Yussa blinked, as if startled, then nodded slightly. “You are very knowledgeable on the subjects of rare tomes, it makes for good conversation.”

Essek smiled slightly, one canine poking out. It was part of his duty as the Shadowhand, and well, he liked knowledge. It had gotten him into trouble more than once, but it’s allure was undeniable. “You are right, of course,” he murmured, eyeing Yussa’s plate. The other wizard had consumed more than what Essek had estimated he could. “Are you finished?”

Yussa’s golden orbs glanced down at his empty plate, then looked back up at Essek, a slight trace of embarrassment in their depths. “Yes, I do believe I am.” He stood, his heavy robes shifting with the movement. “Shall we?”

Essek floated up. “After you, and do thank Wensforth and Willi for such a wonderful meal for me.” The tastes and flavors of Nicodranas were vastly different then what he was used to. Delightfully tasteful. He wouldn’t mind partaking in more meals with the other wizard. “Do you have a spell ready to show off?” He grinned faintly again, the fires of a challenge stirring in his blood.

Yussa looked back at him, golden orbs veiled and gleaming, and Essek’s heart skipped a beat. “I do. Do you?”

Essek smirked. “Of course.”

. . .

It was the damned smirk, Yussa decided, that sent all his control shattering. It was that small, damned smirk that made Essek’s eyes gleam and gave the briefest glimpse of bright white teeth. Just that smirk sent Yussa’s heart pounding, sent the blood rushing to his cheeks. He wondered if the drow ever smiled. Not the tight, guarded smiles he had given Yussa previously, but a real, unrestrained one. He could imagine it now, a warmth in the eyes, the stretch of the lips, a sense of joy in the line of his shoulders and tilt of his head. He wanted to see that smile in real life, not just in his mind’s eye.

Yussa was afraid that if Essek smiled like that, his resolve would truly be shattered beyond repair. It was already fractured enough.

Yussa opened the door to his work room, and stepped aside to allow Essek to float in. The drow sent him a calculating look, one eyebrow raised and a faint smirk painted onto his lips. “So confident,” Yussa murmured, closing the door, “One would think you didn’t lose yesterday’s bout.”

“I may have lost that battle,” Essek said, his voice smooth as honey, “but I have hardly lost the war. I do believe you start today off, don’t you?” The smirk was still in place, a challenging light in his eyes. He was planning something, and Yussa was eager to see what would unfold.

He retrieved his spell book and flipped to a page. “You’re completely right,” he smiled faintly, all bright teeth and sharp eyes, a challenge for a challenge. He raised one hand, started to murmur.

“What?” Essek said, his voice, curious. “Not going to give a brief description before you cast your spell?” His smirk was untouched, the glint in his eyes still bright.

Yussa froze, his head tilting slightly. Was this Essek’s plan? To keep interrupting him so he would be forced to cast a spell of a lower caliber? Hardly sporting, but clever. Very clever. Part of him approved. “We haven’t before,” he pointed out. “I hardly see the use to start now.”

“True,” Essek murmured, “Then go ahead.”

Yussa smiled faintly and restarted his spell. He missed the shift in Essek’s smirk as it went from confident to devious, he missed Essek’s lips moving as he whispered a spell of his own, he missed the slight shift as Essek’s fingers, hidden by his robe, wove the symbols required. He only noticed when the spell touched him, and he was too startled to properly protect himself from the effects. And in that moment, Yussa was shunted out of time.

. . .

Essek smiled slightly to himself as he laced his fingers together, waiting for Yussa to return. Ten seconds later, Yussa reappeared, blinking slightly, his brow furrowed in a small from. That was odd, he shouldn’t have any recollection of the brief trip. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I seem to have lost my place. Where was I?”

“You were about to show me a spell.” Essek said smoothly, smothering his triumphant grin. “An impressive one, I hope.”

“Ah yes, my apologies.” Yussa frowned slightly, stared at his spell book, then looked back up. Essek could see him struggling to connect the dots, but Essek doubted he could. “It seems that I am . . . ” he hesitated his frown becoming slightly more severe, “Did something happen?”

Essek almost froze in shock. He knew something had happened, even though the spell was supposed to remove all memories of the event. It was curious, and Essek placed that little piece of information along with all the others. “Yes, you were about to cast your spell, but you froze up for a few seconds. I was about to inquire if anything was wrong, but you snapped out of it before I could.” The words flowed smoothly from his lips, not a stutter or hesitation to be found. 

“Oh,” Yussa said, his voice faint. His nostrils flared, and his eyes locked on Essek’s form. “How unlike me, my apologies.” He raised a hand and started murmuring, but his face still held a slight trace of confusion and uncertainty. Essek felt a small prick of guilt at the sight. The spell had obviously impacted Yussa far greater than most people. 

He tucked that little bit of guilt away too.

Yussa’s voice continued, it’s chat spiraling up and up into the air. Essek tilted his head, listening to the draconic as it spilled from Yussa’s lips. How had he not noticed before now? Every spell Yussa had shared was in draconic. Essek would have expected it to be in elven. Still, draconic, another little thing he would put away for later. It almost felt like a puzzle, with Yussa giving him bits and pieces to put together. That was fine, Essek liked puzzles.

Yussa’s voice snapped, the incantation breaking off sharply, his gold eyes boring into Essek’s. “You spelled me!” He said, his voice shocked, “When I was casting this earlier, you spelled me!”

Essek was left reeling, but he didn’t show it. “Well, the spell I was going to share today needed a spell to trigger it. Forgive me for the deception.” He bowed slightly, and allowed the glint of apology to enter his eyes. He really was sorry, not overly so, but sorry nonetheless.

Yussa wasn’t listening, “It wasn’t a counter spell, I would remember a counter spell. So what was it?”

“If you would let me?” Essek summoned his spell book and presented it for Yussa’s viewing. “It’s name is Temporal Shift. I admire your mental abilities, the spell is supposed to remove any memory of the event, yet you managed. I am left in awe.”

Yussa traced the page with one finger, then looked up. “It was a dirty trick, but I understand why you played it. But victory is not yours yet.”

“Now, now,” Essek said, clicking his tongue slightly, “don’t change your spell now that you know what mine is.”

Yussa smiled, “As if I would sink that low.” Essek took the jab with a small nod and a smile. He deserved it, but his point had been made. In a cheerier tone, Yussa added “Have no worries, your case is strong. Now, shall I?”

“Of course,” Essek glided back and waved one hand slightly, “And this time, any interruptions are on you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think temporal shift is my new favorite spell.


	13. Chapter Dreizehn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I would like to thank you lovely people for your comments and kudos. You peeps are the best and I hope you have a wonderful day!

Sometimes, being stuck in a gem was useful. Sure, Halas could only hear the incantations, and was left guessing at what else must be involved with the spell work, but that was part of the fun. It was like listening to a play, and having to imagine what was going on instead of seeing it for himself. Even better, the two wizards could not hear him laughing.

Oh, clever, clever Essek. If Halas had known him before being stuck in his ruby, he would have never let himself be betrayed. Someone that clever had to have secrets, dangerous ones, the ones his paranoia would have sniffed out and revealed to the world. There would have been no slip ups, no moments of weakness that led to his plan being foiled. He would have been successful simply because Essek was too suspicious to relax his guard around.

And it amused him that Yussa was doing exactly that. The foolish wizard who was paranoid about Halas’s slim chances of escape was putty in Essek’s hands. Halas could hear the changes in Yussa’s voice, he was very good at that now, and knew that the wizard was starting to melt. This little trick of Essek’s hadn’t even made a dent. It was pathetic, really, and if Halas had been himself he would have whacked Yussa upside the head for lowering his guard. 

But he couldn’t, so he reveled in the fact that the more the wizard became invested in the enigma that was Essek, the less he looked towards Halas’s ruby and wondered what the wizard planned.

Which was good, because Halas needed all the time he could get.

. . .

Perhaps it was the remains of the Temporal Shift spell, perhaps it was something completely different, but Yussa interrupted himself for a fourth time. He stared at his page, his face blank and inscrutable. Essek was startled, this was unlike Yussa, as far as he could tell at least. “Are you okay?”

Yussa’s golden orbs flicked up to meet Essek’s eyes, for the moment absolutely blank and unreadable. Essek got the feeling that there was something older than Yussa appeared to be in that gaze, something utterly inhuman. Then, Yussa gave the faintest smile, breaking the illusion into pieces. “Sorry, I just realized this would be easier if you looked at the spell rather than me demonstrating.” He stepped over and showed Essek the page.

Essek leaned over and examined the spell work, raising one slim eyebrow. “A modified polymorph spell? One that allows the user to keep all his physical and mental characteristics? I hardly see how that can be useful, most often a polymorph spell is used to increase one's physical characteristics, or decrease an enemies physical and mental characteristics.” He should know, he had seen Caleb use this spell more then once. Caleb, how long had it been since he had thought of the red haired wizard with the blue eyes? How odd, normally he thought of Caleb at least once a day, or, at least he had. He pushed the thought away, he could focus on it later. “Anyway, I feel that simply using an illusion would have the same effects as this spell. It would also use up less power.”

“Not necessarily,” Yussa argued, his voice soft. “What if you needed to become a smaller creature for some reason, but you needed to keep your health or your intelligence? Then a spell like this could come in handy.”

“In battle,” Essek said, gliding forwards slightly to trace the runes on the page, “The goal is hardly to become a smaller creature, unless you are targeting the enemy. And if you are targeting the enemy, leaving them access to their mental facilities and their strength is never a good idea.” He took in a deep breath, and inhaled the scent of Yussa’s workshop. Wood and old books, the slightest tang of metal, a musky smell that didn’t make sense. He looked up and met Yussa’s eyes -

And froze.

Yussa didn’t have any pupils. His golden eyes were truly golden orbs. How had he not noticed sooner? What could it mean?

It meant that he was too close. It meant that his face felt flushed and it meant that for a second his control had slipped and his shock had been plain on his face. It meant that Yussa knew that he noticed, and the Yussa knew that Essek was collecting little scraps of oddities like it was gold. And by the small smile tugging at the edges of his mouth, he was amused.

“Essek,” he purred, or perhaps it really was a growl, “I didn’t know you could be so short sighted. If you were spying on somebody, then this version of polymorph would be vastly superior.” His golden orbs glinted.

Essek gilded back slightly, putting some distance between himself and the other wizard. “True, or you could use scrying, or invisibility, or your familiar if you have one. There are numerous spells that could be used in that way.” He forced himself to meet Yussa’s eyes, to not look away from that golden gaze.

“True,” Yussa murmured. He bowed slightly, “Then today’s victory goes to you. Shall we exchange spells?” His lips were still pulled into that tiny little smile.

“Yes,” said Essek, his voice and face once again under his control, “lets.”

. . .

Later, long after Essek had left and dinner had been consumed, Yussa sat in his horde in his human form and wondered at how far he had almost slipped. That little spell, one little modified polymorph spell, and the truth of his existence was threatened. Not only that, but Essek knew something was up. He’d noticed Yussa’s lack of pupils, but he hadn’t commented, and Yussa doubted he would ask. No, Essek would do his research first, and come to his own conclusions. He was perceptive too, and had no doubt been collecting little bits of information about him for days now. With a little research, those oddities could paint a startling picture.

Which meant Yussa’s secret was under threat. 

And for some reason, Yussa couldn’t bring himself to care. No, that was wrong, he did care, in fact, part of him was delighted. There weren’t many people who knew his secret. The Marquis of Nicodranous, Wensforth, Allura, that was about it. His status as a gold dragon was a very tightly kept secret. Not even the Mighty Nien knew, though he was certain some had guessed. To have Essek know . . .

He should be angry. He should be scared. He shouldn’t be happy. This was the opposite of what he wanted, he didn’t want to get attached. But if Essek knew, and if Essek kept on being Essek, then . . . Yussa was very afraid that he would get attached. He was afraid he was already getting attached.

When Essek used Temporal Shift on him, he should have been angry. Instead, he was surprised. Instead, he was delighted. There were not many who could outwit him, and now he could count Essek as one of those. Yussa imagined the thousands of conversations they could have, each trying to trip the other up, and smiled. 

. . .

Back at his house, Essek sat down in the chair at his desk and stared at the wood. Then he gathered some paper, a quill, and some ink, and began to list. Gems in the tower glowed. A gaze that was somewhat inhuman. Golden eyes with no pupils. The fact that he owned the Open Quay, but separated himself from the residents. His curiosity. A polymorph spell that kept both mental and physical facilities intact. His vast collection of artifacts, many very, very rare. The size of his rooms. His stiffness when Essek asked why he didn’t leave the tower. The vast amount of food he consumed.

Many of these could be explained away. Owning the Open Quay could be explained. His curiosity, after all, most wizards were curious. He could have made that modified polymorph for the exact reasons he listed. His collection of artifacts could have been collected over a long period of time, after all, Yussa hardly appeared to be a young elf. As for room size, that could have been his personal preference in architecture. Even his eyes could be explained away as a mutation of some kind. 

But Essek couldn’t help but feel as if something was wrong, that these little things could be added up in another way that was not just Yussa being odd. He had collected his pieces, he just needed to put them together. Would research count as prying? He didn’t know, and the curiosity gnawing at his mind wouldn’t let him think. 

Once upon a time, Essek had started a war for the sake of his curiosity. He was better at controlling it now, but it was still a powerful force. Still, Essek doubted that indulging this once would lead to anything drastic like a war. Besides, he didn’t have to bring up what he discovered. Yussa didn’t have to know. Did research count as prying? Was it still prying if he brought it up?

Essek’s fingers tapped a rhythm on his desk, and for a long time, he debated back and forth in his head before deciding. He straightened, and then started the familiar hand symbols for the Sending spell.


	14. Chapter Vierzehn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three cheers for Critical Role being up and running again Hip hip, hooray! Hip hip, hooray! Hip hip, hooray!  
Okay, now that I've made a fool of myself, let me do my normal and thank you all for your comments and kudos. They never fail to brighten my day a bring a smile to my face. Hope you all enjoy this latest chapter, and I hope you all have a wonderful day!

Beauregard Lionett was meditating, or at least attempting to meditate. She was better at it then she once was, but still, meditation was almost impossible when the builders were hammering and sawing and constructing in the background, while Veth negotiated shrilly with the agent that had listed the astronomical price of their labor. Caleb was with her, already counting out the price the man had listed, coin by single coin. It was a fairly effective negotiating strategy, and Beau had once seen somebody lower the price of what they were selling because Caleb was taking so long to pay. Yasha was somewhere with the construction workers, giving out a helping hand. Caduceus was making tea. Fjord was attempting to help Veth with the negotiations. Yeza was chattering excitedly to nobody in particular about his new lab. Luc was running around with his crossbow and rubber crossbow bolts, Nugget at his heels, causing as much chaos as possible for a halfling child with a weapon and a blink dog in a construction site. Finally, there was the matter of Jester, who was currently painting the back of Beau’s hand with some kind of pattern that probably involved a hidden dick.

Oh yes, all of that made it very hard to concentrate. 

But Beau was used to the kind of chaos that the Mighty Nein generated with every breath they took. She would normally be there with them now, maybe practicing being polite or attempting to start a fight club, but Jester had wanted to paint her hand, and Beau had figured that she might as well use that time to meditate. But her friends, being the great friends they were, had immediately decided that they would increase the insanity of whatever they were doing to give her a hard time. Oh yes, the Mighty Nein, formed of unbreakable bonds that had saved the world, was also full of most-of-the-time-well-meaning assholes, and they took every chance they got to make each other's life difficult.

In a loving manner, of course.

Jester’s brush swirled against Beau’s skin, leaving a tingling feeling in its wake. Her skin itched where the paint was being applied, but Jester was giggling, and that in itself was enough to make her live through any discomfort for the tiefling’s sake. Then there was a slight tingle against her ear, and her first thought was that Jester had decided to cast Sending even though she was right there in front of her. Or perhaps it was Caleb, casting Message to tell her how the negotiations were going. But no, the voice that spoke was neither Jester’s cheery voice or Caleb’s heavily accented tones. 

It was Essek.

Beauregard stiffened, paying close attention to the words, forcing out the numerous distractions from her surroundings. “Hello, Beauregard. I hope you are doing well. I was wondering, have you noticed something odd about Yussa?”

She cocked one eyebrow in surprise. “Well duh. The dude is fucking suspicious. He lives in a tower with no doors for fucks sake. Kinda a red flag there.” 

She opened her eyes, to see Jester's face very close to her own. Before she could stop herself, she started counting the freckles that dotted her cheeks like a constellation of stars. “Who are you talking to?! Ohhh! Let me guess, is it Essek? I bet it's Essek, tell him that he still needs to message me. Oh wait! I’ll do it!” She leaned back, and Beauregard noticed that she’d tucked her paintbrush behind her ear. There was paint dotted across her horn, a trail of color against the dark blue. Her fingers waved in the familiar pattern for the Sending spell and Beau diligently started counting the words. “Hiiiiiiiiii Essek! How is Nicodranous? Enjoying the beach? Any updates on the cute person? Why haven’t you contacted us yet? We all feel abandoned by -”

Beauregard held up her hands and Jester pouted. She paused for a second, then her voice sprung into action again. Beau started her recount.

“ -your cruel vacation while we're working!!!! Please tell us something! Ohh! Have you tried the bear claws yet? They are too die for! And why -” Another pause, another recast, Beau started counting again. “-all these questions about Yussa? Ohhhh~ Does somebody have a crush? Do tell me all~! But yeah, Yussa is totes hiding something important. Maybe -” A pause brief enough to recast, not enough time to reply. “- he’ll tell you! Since you’re so close and all~ doot do doot do doot do doot do doot do doot do doot do doot do~!”

Beauregard didn’t even try to smother a laugh. Never change Jester, never change.

. . .

Essek placed his head in his hands and rubbed his temples, he should have known that calling the Mighty Nein would result in a headache. Ah yes, the price of curiosity, it was always steep. He tried to pierce Jester's words together to make sense of them. Beauregard, at least, was forthcoming, even if she was abrasive. But Jester, Jester was a different matter entirely. The part about being abandoned by his cruel vacation could be thrown out. The part about bear claws could be thrown out. The part about the beach could be thrown out. The part about Nicodranous probably couldn’t, for his own safety. The song at the end could be thrown out. Finally, he replied. “I am asking these questions because a few things do not make sense, that is all. When will I be able to talk to Caleb?”

The reply was immediate, “Not now! He’s busy negotiating! Do you know how much these builders charged us? It is absolutely insane! I mean, how do they even get -” The rest was lost, but the idea could be inferred.

“I have no clue. Please notify me when he is available.”

“Okie dokie! Shall do!” And the rest was nonsense until she ran out of words.

“Thank you,” he replied, then he leaned back in his chair, running his hands through his hair. That was one part of his inquiries over with, although it hadn’t been as fruitful as he hoped. He had hoped that Beauregard at least would have made Yussa a subject of scrutiny, and he was certain that Jester and Veth would have tried at least once. But no, nothing. Or if they had, Yussa had managed to fend them off, which did not bode well for Essek. After all, the Mighty Nein were the most competent, chaos causing, nosy group of people he knew. If they couldn’t figure out Yussa's secret, what chance did he have?

Well for one, he spent more time with Yussa then any of the Mighty Nein did. That alone gave him an edge that didn’t. He stretched, and the answer came to him. Research it would be, nothing too heavy, but he would try to find something that fit Yussa besides eccentric wizard. But where to start? He thought of Yussa’s version of polymorph, that in itself was a hint. A large, strong creature who was also very intelligent. Devils, demons, but those didn’t fit Yussa, not really. But perhaps . . . yes, he knew where he would start.

He would start with dragons.

. . .

The next morning found Essek waking up to the familiar tingle of magic against his ear and Jester’s voice. “Heyyyyyyyy Essek! Caleb wants to know a good time to meet. You know, since you’re so busy and all. Bear claws are the best ever!”

“Not today,” Essek answered, his voice rough with sleep, “Tomorrow evening. Actually, you all should come. It would be a break from your strenuous work.”

He couldn’t hear her reply, but he could imagine her excited squeal. What did he have going on today? Yussa, he had Yussa, of course, their challenge weighed heavily on his mind and stirred up a great deal of eagerness that almost destroyed his exhaustion. But he also had another meeting with the Clovis Concord. He squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face in his pillow. Yes, his meeting. He really didn’t want to go to that meeting, but, unfortunately, he had a job to do. 

And Jester thought he was on vacation.

He wished.

. . .

Yussa was already awake and waiting when Essek messaged him about coming over. The drow sounded tired, as if he had a very long night researching things. Yussa felt a thrill shoot through him. Would Essek find out? Would he say anything? How long would it take him? With these thoughts in mind, he fidgeted with the pages of his book instead of reading them. He thought of Essek, the delight that would shine in his eyes with a shared secret, the slight pull of his lips. Then he pushed the thought out of his mind and focused resolutely on his book.

A few paragraphs later, there was the person who had so occupied his thoughts. He was, to Yussa’s great delight and despair, shiny again today. His jewelry glinted in the light, and his skin shimmered ever so faintly. The light played on the panes of his face, tracing his nose and his cheekbones and the elegant swoop of his hair. His dark cloak glittered as if woven with metallic threads, and in his hands, he held his black parasol. Essek’s silver and red eyes alighted on Yussa’s reclining form, his lips pulled back into one of his secret smiles. There was the briefest flash of white teeth. “Good morning,” he said, his tones smooth and warm. If Yussa hadn’t heard his tired voice earlier, he would have never known how tired the wizard truly was. But there was the faintest shadow in his eyes that Yussa was very familiar with, he had seen that expression too many times on his own face. 

Essek was exhausted.

Which meant good things for the competition today, at least for Yussa.

He set the book aside, smiled up at Essek.“Good morning to you as well. Long night?”

Essek’s marvelous eyes barely flicked when Yussa asked the question. He sat slowly, slightly awkwardly, into his seat. For the first time, Yussa found himself wondering why. It couldn’t all be the cloak, could it? Essek was finding out his secrets, Yussa wanted to sniff out the drow’s as well. “Yes, it was.” Essek said, “I had to research a few things for work. That always takes longer than expected.”

“Hmm, I wouldn’t know. Go on, eat something, you look like you need it.”

Essek sent another small smile his way, and something in Yussa thrilled. No, bad something. Very bad something. But it was hard to stay indifferent, it always had been with Essek, but now that his secret was being pried and poked at, it was almost impossible. And Essek being so very shiny didn’t help things either. Yussa kept on catching himself watching the drow, the way he moved, the way he sat, the way his earrings caught the light.

Stupid dragon instincts.

They ate quickly, in comfortable silence, lost in their own thoughts. For once, Essek’s eyes did not stray to the book Yussa had been reading, instead they stared out into nothing, out of focus and unblinking. Yussa wondered what he was thinking. Was he doing the same thing Yussa was? Cataloging movements and watching the other’s face? Was he attempting to put the pieces together with whatever he could glean from his research? Was he picking his spell? Or perhaps his mind was in none of those places, instead focused on the meeting he would have later? There were too many possibilities, and Yussa found himself calculating them all.

Finally, the silence was broken, Essek set his plate down, stood up and stared at Yussa with his silver and red eyes. “I do have a meeting later, as you might have guessed, so shall we go ahead and start?”

Yussa stood too, suddenly glad for the break in the silence, suddenly delighted to hear Essek’s voice again. “The real question is, are you ready?”

Essek’s eyes flashed briefly with the light of challenge, his small smile once again reappeared on his face. “Always.”


	15. Chapter Fünfzehn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Thank you all for your comments and kudos, and I hope you have a lovely day!

Yussa was watching him again, Essek noted. Every time his cloak swished, every time the rings on his fingers caught the light, Yussa’s golden orbs snapped to him. It was, Essek figured, all the metal and jewelry he wore. Yussa had been, if he remembered correctly, similarly distracted the last time he’d dressed up. It was another thing to add to the list, another little indiscrepancy that could lead him to the truth. He stopped for a second, floating on the stairs, closed his eyes and tilted his head back. He had been up too late last night, and his head was swimming with knowledge. It would settle down eventually, click into place so he could understand it all, but for now, it was a distraction. And he couldn’t afford any more distractions, not now, and not later during the meeting.

“Are you okay?” It was Yussa, and Essek opened his eyes to stare at the other wizard. He was a few steps ahead, watching Essek with his golden eyed gaze. His head was tilted, the gold of his robes glittered, a few strands of white hair escaped his braid. 

Essek swallowed, and put on a fake smile. “I’m fine, just a bit tired, that’s all.” He must be doing a horrible job at hiding it, too, if Yussa was worried.

Yussa nodded, “Completely understandable. You hide it well.” For a few seconds, he continued to stare, and Essek felt like a bug in a jar before that ancient gaze. Because that was the word for it, ancient. He’d been right to start with dragons, but for all that was known, there was a lot that wasn’t known, and Essek was having a bit of trouble connecting the dots. He didn’t have many books on magical beings, and it had been too late to go to the library, so all he had was scraps of research. But it would be enough, just another day, maybe two. 

Then Yussa nodded, as if confirming something, and Essek was pulled out of his wandering thoughts. “Thank you,” he murmured, forcing his face to stay blank and his eyes to stay steady. It was just one night of little sleep, he would get through it. He’d done it before. 

Back when . . .

With a heavy sigh, Essek floated up a couple of steps, and after a second, Yussa too started moving again. It was funny, this morning, the thought of their competition had excited him, but now, in Yussa’s presence, his thoughts wouldn’t stop swirling, swirling, swirling. He needed to focus, he would focus. A spell. What spell? He went through his list, running through the different things he had prepared, for a second he hesitated, wondering about Resonant Echoes, then he moved on. 

That one could be saved for a later date.

. . .

Yussa was calculating, a bit worried, a bit uneasy, because he was pretty sure that Essek had just almost passed out on the stairs. He knew the drow was exhausted, it meant good things for him in the competition, and he felt no guilt in using that exhaustion to his advantage after Essek’s stunt yesterday, but . . . he couldn’t help but think about Essek’s other meeting today. The one he had about the potential trades deals with the Clovis Concord. That, he knew, wasn’t something that should be gone into with a mind made of mush. Oh, he was sure Essek would operate well, but tired people made mistakes.

And Essek wasn’t just tired, he was exhausted.

And this meeting wasn’t for him, it was for his country.

Yussa opened the door to his workshop, stood aside so Essek could float through. “How long did you stay up?” He asked, it was noncommittal enough, as if he wasn’t curious and worried and anxious and eager all at once.

Essek glanced at him, those silver and red eyes slightly duller than usual. “Almost all night,” he answered, his voice soft, “and the rest of my sleep was plagued by dreams.” He smiled his slight smile, “Such is the price of curiosity.”

“Ah yes,” Yussa said, smiling back, “I know that price very well.” He hesitated, then glanced around, scouring his workroom for what should be there. Chairs, right? He had chairs, he was sure he had chairs. Yes, there. “Come on,” he said, moving over so he could pull a chair out for himself and one for Essek. He sat down, smoothed out his robes, and gestured. “Please, sit.”

Essek’s smile was a tad bit bemused now. “I was under the impression that we were to engage in a battle of wits and spells?”

Yussa chuckled softly, “Don’t worry, that hasn’t changed at all, but I do have something I need to talk to you about.”

“As opposed to talking over breakfast?” Essek murmured, gliding over to take his seat, his cloak caught the light, rippling like water or sunlight or shadow.

“Yes, well, I didn’t want to interrupt your meal.” He pressed his fingertips together, then leaned forwards slightly, staring at Essek intensely. Essek didn’t flinch or shift, he just met Yussa’s eyes with his own, one white eyebrow raised. “You are aware now that I own the Open Quay, correct? Therefore I am one of the people you should be talking to about trade deals, correct?”

Essek’s head tilted, his earrings shifting with movement, a lock of hair falling across his brow, although Yussa wasn’t sure if that was engineered or not. But that single tilt of his head was the only sign of his interest, and once again Yussa was blown away by Essek’s ability to control himself. “Yes, is there a reason you are bringing this up now?”

“Well, you are dolled up, so you might as well get this talk down with now as opposed to later.” Yussa said, taking in the jewelry and the makeup, all the sparkles and the way it brought attention to Essek’s own attractive features. He blinked, hard, forcing his eyes away. Damn it, and he had been doing so good too. 

“Hmm, that is true,” Essek said slowly, then “This shall be discussed as potential business partners, yes? And not like two wizards in a competition?”

“Business partners, of course,” Yussa said, pressing his fingertips a little tighter together. It didn’t hurt, but it was uncomfortable, and that was enough to get him back on the issue at hand. “If I may, the Open Quay is a place for merchants to sell their goods, not only that, but there are tourist areas and rooms for lodgers. I was thinking, your merchants, or at least some of your people, could set up shop here. You could sell your items, as well take lodging, and as for food, Nicodranous is a place of wonders, selling your own cuisine wouldn’t look too out of place.”

Essek blinked, just a shutter of his eyelids, but it was enough to make Yussa frown inwardly. Essek was very good at hiding what he thought, and this being a business deal, he shouldn’t have blinked and given away his surprise. “That is true . . .” He said, slowly, “but there are, of course, problems with your plan . . .”

. . .

Essek felt a trickle of unease slid down his back as the conversation continued. Yussa’s arguments were well put together, logical, sound, but that didn’t matter because Essek was trained to find flaws in any kind of logic, to twist and shift the meaning of words until the better part of the deal was on his side. It should have been easy, instinctual, but his tongue felt like sandpaper and his thoughts were slower than molasses, and he was having a hard time finding the flaws and the loopholes and everything he was searching for. Part of that may have been because of Yussa, having that ancient golden gaze fixated on him with such intensity was both terrifying and exciting, but most of it, he was pretty sure, was from lack of sleep.

This wasn’t good, this wasn’t good at all. If he could barely keep up with Yussa, who wasn’t trained in this type of deal as far as Essek knew, then how was he supposed to keep up with the Clovis Concord agent? He would have to either reschedule the meeting, or skip today’s contest so he could get a decent amount of sleep. He only needed four hours, only four. But transcribing spells took a long time . . . no, wait, he had the gold ring, that shortened the time considerably, perhaps he could get all three in? His meeting wasn’t until later . . .

“Essek? Are you okay?”

Essek blinked and realized belatedly that he had stopped talking. He set his hands in his lap gently and gave a small, apologetic smile. “My apologies, if I may -”

“No,” Yussa interrupted, his voice soft, “You need rest, we finish this talk later when the topic doesn’t send you into a semi-doze.” 

“Ah, my apologies,” he murmured, feeling a little bit flushed. 

Yussa smiled, “It’s fine, I have done the same myself on multiple occasions. Would you like to borrow a guest room? We have at least one, I’m sure of it.”

Essek blinked, “No, that won’t be necessary.”

“Nonsense,” Yussa struck back, “and if you’re worried about the competition, don’t be. It will be more entertaining with you rested, and this way you won’t have the potential of messing up your trade talks.”

Essek bowed his head, then after a second’s pause, murmured, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Yussa said, standing, “this way, if you please.” Essek stood, and floated after him. He was led through the rooms and up the staircases of the tower until, finally, Yussa stopped and opened the door. He stepped aside, “I knew I had one somewhere, I’ll send Wensforth in four hours to wake you up and lead you back to the workshop. I am sure I can find something to entertain myself in the meantime.”

Essek swallowed, “Once again, thank you.”

Yussa smiled at him, and there was something soft in that smile, something warm, and it sent a tingle through Essek’s whole body. “You’re welcome,” he said, and then with a sweep of his golden cloak, he was gone.

Essek floated there, just for a few seconds, watching him depart, trying to place that warmth, that softness. He’d seen it before, not on Yussa’s face, not in Yussa’s eyes, so where? He shook the thoughts, the questions away, and then entered the bedroom. He closed the door behind him, gently, then floated over to the bed, looking around. It was a well decorated room, a bit opulent, but Essek was used to that. It smelled slightly dusty, a bit unused, but it had a bed, and in the end, that was all that really mattered. He sat onto the mattress, and it dipped underneath him, there was no cloud of dust or spores from mold, so Essek figured it was safe enough. With a sigh, he lay down, staring at the ceiling. He should take off his bracers, he really should, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted Yussa to know that particular fact about him yet. Still . . . he hated sleeping with them on. Well, he would just have to deal, it was only four hours. With a small sigh, Essek closed his eyes, and then sunk into the darkness.

. . .

Yussa was researching elven biology. He could feel Wensforth’s judging glare from where he was dusting bookshelves, and privately, Yussa couldn’t help but feel like he deserved that glare. He was, after all, masquerading as an elf, he should know at least the basics of their biology. They only needed about four hours of sleep, right? He vaguely remembered that being one of the reasons he had chosen an elf, as well as their long life span. But he was a dragon, so he was a slave to a dragon’s habits, which meant he normally slept the full eight to ten hours, sometimes longer depending on how long he’d stayed up. But Essek would only need four hours, he was almost positive about that, but almost wasn’t good enough.

Which was why he was here, going through this book, looking it up.

“You’re being ridiculous,” Wensforth muttered, just loud enough to be heard.

Yussa growled at him.

“You are, he’ll be fine.” There was a trace of worry in his voice, buried deep. He should be worried, he was needling Yussa on purpose.

“Unless dark elf biology differs from other species of elves, I don’t have a book on dark elf biology. How am I supposed to know?” He stopped,listened to himself, Wensforth was right. He was being ridiculous. He certainly sounded ridiculous. He took a deep breath, let it out. He needed to stop caring, because it didn’t matter. It didn’t. He shouldn’t care, he wouldn’t care. He wasn’t going to get involved or attached. He wasn’t. Yussa stood, hands placed firmly on the warm wood of his desk. “I’m going to check on him.”

“You did that already, ten minutes ago.” Wensforth pointed out. Yussa twisted to glare at him, and the old goblin squeaked and turned back to his dusting. 

With a sigh, Yussa forced himself to sit down, to idly turn the page of his book. He was screwed, royally, and completely screwed. But that didn’t cover it, it didn’t cover it at all. He flipped another page, then, softly, angrily, he muttered one word.

_ “Fuck.” _


	16. Chapter Sechszhen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! First off, thank you all for your comments and kudos! They are greatly appreciated. Second off, things are finally kicking into gear! *maniacal laughter* Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter and have a wonderful day!

When Essek dreamed, he dreamed of back then. Taking the Luxan, the feel of it in his hands, the pulse of power against his skin. He dreamed of stealing it, of giving it to the Empire, thoughts analytical, no guilt, just doing what had to be done. When he had nightmares, it was of the outcomes, both what had happened and what still might. The many deaths that he had slowly started caring about, torture, the Bright Queen’s face as he was executed. He rarely dreamed of good things, he used too, maybe, a long time ago when he was still young and innocent, but now it was all spun up into that one defining moment of his life and everything that came after.

He dreamed that day, in those four hours. But it wasn’t about the Luxan, it wasn’t about the war or the punishments he might face, it wasn’t about the pain of discovery or his brother’s face when he realized what Essek had done. It was a warm dream, soft and gentle, and for the first time in a long time, he didn’t fight his way into reality. He let the dream take him, and when he woke, four hours later, he did it with a small, happy smile. 

. . .

There was a knock on the door, and Essek opened his eyes, feeling much better, rested in a way he hadn’t felt for a while now. That dream . . . what had it been? He couldn’t remember. Shame, it had been a nice one too. He sat up, then got off the bed, then floated over to the door, opening it to see Wensforth looking up at him. “Hello,” Essek murmured.

“Morning,” the goblin said back, before, “the master,” and oh the weight on that word, “is in the study. This way.” He turned, and started walking off, Essek following behind.

“You don’t sound particularly happy with him right now.” Essek notated, staring at Wensforth’s stiff shoulders.

“I’m not,” The goblin snorted, “he’s being an idiot. You can tell him I said that.”

Essek chuckled, imagining the slight affronted look Yussa would give him if he did, “I might just do that.”

They made the rest of their way in comfortable silence, Essek examining the structure of the tower as they passed through. It really did look like it had been made for a much bigger creature, but once again, that could have been personal preference. Then again . . . Essek tilted his head back, looking at the high ceiling. It was, theoretically, large enough for a massive creature to pass through. Perhaps large enough for a dragon? A dragon . . . a thought struck him. Dragons were normally color coded, their color was their identity in a way, chromatic versus metallic, and the different colors also showed where they lived and corresponded to their powers. That, of course, could be a product of evolution, but still, Yussa wore gold. He always wore the same long golden robe. Essek had dismissed that before, but what if that was important? Rooms large enough for a dragon, and he was always wearing a long golden robe. A golden dragon? Now there was a thought, but still, golden dragons were very rare. What would be the odds of encountering one in Nicodranous?

Well, when the Mighty Nien was involved, nothing was impossible.

So, just say that Yussa was a golden dragon. It was as good as theory as anything, and he could start researching when he got home. It certainly helped narrow down all the other candidates. Another thought struck him, less pleasant. Golden dragons were normally good, so, if Yussa was a golden dragon, how would he feel about the fact that Essek had started a war for the sake of a bit of knowledge? That thought made the small smile fade from his face. Yussa probably wouldn’t be pleased, not at all. Then again, why did he care what Yussa thought about his actions in the past? He didn’t care. He didn’t. But, just in case, he would make sure that Yussa didn’t find out.

. . .

Yussa looked up from his books when Essek entered the room. He looked way better, the shadows gone from his eyes, the exhaustion no longer as present. Yussa moved his book, not one on elven biology, those had been put up, and stood, smiling. “You look better.”

Essek tilted his head the slightest amount, his earrings jangled, catching the light. “Thank you, I feel it. Wensforth requested that I tell you that you’re being an idiot.”

Yussa glared at the goblin behind the floating drow. “Did he now.” If a bit of a growl was in his voice, well, that was entirely understandable. Stupid goblins and their meddlesome ways, sticking their noses into stuff that didn’t concern them.

Wensforth squeaked and darted off. 

Essek chuckled and floated forwards, “What are you reading?”

Yussa’s eyes snapped back to Essek's form. “A compilation of religions in Wildmount. This particular tomb goes into great detail on some of the more obscure cults.”

Essek’s eyebrow rose, “Really? How delightful. I would love to inquire more, but,” he gestured to his getup.

“Ah yes, your meeting.” Yussa slipped in a bookmark, then closed the book, moving around his desk to join the other wizard. “Then shall we get on with this competition?”

Essek bowed his head slightly, “Lets.”

. . .

They walked in silence to Yussa’s workshop, and Essek found himself watching the way Yussa moved. Elegantly, a bit predatory, vastly more elegant than any wizard had any right to be. He blinked, shook his head. He was staring. He needed to stop staring. Immediately. Head in the game, head in the game, a spell, what spell. 

His mind remained blank.

Essek felt almost like crying. Why, oh why was this happening to him of all people? He’d just gotten enough sleep! He should be fine! No, it wasn’t the fact that he had been lacking in sleep. No, Essek was simply distracted. By Yussa.

He wondered if Caleb had planned this.

He wondered if Jester had put Caleb up to this.

“And here we are,” Yussa said, “obviously,” he opened the door, stepped aside, and Essek floated into the room, feeling Yussa’s eyes on his form. 

Essek smiled slightly, “Obviously,” he replied, “I figure you will be going first today? After I so rudely interrupted your casting yesterday.” He couldn’t help it, his smile widened slightly. He truly did love that spell.

Yussa’s golden orbs narrowed slightly, “And give you another advantage? Do you really think that I would allow you that?”

Essek tilted his head slightly. “Another?”

Was it his imagination, or did Yussa’s cheeks flush slightly? “Well, you know,” he waved his hands slighter, “All of your spells are from a branch of magic that nobody but those from Xhorhas knows. That is an advantage.”

“Caleb knows some of these spells.”

“Of course he does,” and there was a trace of darkness in his voice that Essek could not even begin to dissect.

“Very well,” Essek ducked his head slightly, hiding his brief flash of panic. He hadn’t picked a spell. Fine, he could do this, he would have to grab from those he had prepared this morning. He summoned his spell book, sent the pages ruffling, “I hope,” he said with false confidence, “That you have something truly noteworthy ready.” He smiled, razor thin, a challenge.

And Yussa smiled back.

. . .

Yussa watched as Essek glanced down at his page, before looking up again, one eyebrow quirking, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “Now,” Essek said slowly, silver and red eyes glinting, “This spell, because of its dangers, I will not cast here. But I can explain what it does.” He floated over, the light catching on his cloak and his rings and his makeup. “Hmm, actually, I can do better.” He twisted his hands, cast a few incantations, and suddenly, in front of him was a small wizard and a bunch of enemies.

Yussan snorted softly, “Cute.”

Essek’s eyes flicked away, the tips of his ears darkening. “Ah, well, the spell's name is Gravity Fissure, and this is what it does.” The wizard in the illusion went through a few motions, then in front of him, the ground split in one jagged line, twisting and turning for about a hundred feet or so. No, that was wrong. It wasn’t the ground that was splitting, it was the air. The air in that little illusion was splitting, reality was being ripped asunder, leaving only a blank blackness between the tattered edges. The enemies in that line were crushed before being sucked into the darkness, and the enemies around it failed and tried to run before being dragged towards the rip. 

Yussa sucked in a deep breath. “That,” he breathed, “is something.”

Essek smirked faintly, the illusion fading. “Very useful, isn’t it? And the dynamics of the spell are even more curious.”

Yussa looked at him, a teasing smile rising to his lips. “Only in a battlefield situation, but in everyday life . . .”

One white eyebrow rose slightly, “oh, so now we’re talking about everyday life?”

Yussa felt, for the first time in a long time, heat build in his cheeks. Damn it, ridiculous, this was horrible. The absolute worst. He hadn’t felt embarrassed, actually, truly embarrassed in . . . in . . . he didn’t even know how long. “It would,” he said, his voice slightly strangled, “add an interesting twist to the competition, wouldn’t it?”

Essek, for a few seconds, just stared at him, eyes widening slightly, lips twisting, then to Yussa’s surprise, he began to laugh. An honest, real, not at all controlled laugh. He threw his head back, the elegant curve of his neck obvious, mouth parted, teeth flashing white, jewelry winking with each laugh. And Yussa was frozen, staring, feeling as if the whole world was unraveling around him. His heart was beating faster, and was he sweating? Oh fuck, he was. He really was. Essek managed to regain control, turning his laughter into chuckles, one hand covering his mouth, golden ring flashing against his dark skin, silver and red eyes glinting with good humor. “We would have to rethink every spell we have chosen so far.” He started to laugh again, so hard that he began to snort slightly, the sound musical, too wonderful to possibly be real. On and on his laughter continued, the sound spiraling to the ceiling.

And Yussa didn’t remember consciously choosing to move, but he did, because suddenly his lips were crashing against Essek’s own. The drow’s laughter cut off, he made a small, surprised noise, and Yussa snapped out of it, stumbling back, eyes wide and panicked, to see Essek staring at him, mouth parted slightly, hair disarranged, flush high on his cheeks. 

No.

Nonononono.

This wasn’t happening, this wasn’t happening. 

It couldn’t be happening, because he wasn’t supposed to be attached even if he was.

He couldn’t deal, he couldn’t.

And Yussa, wizard and gold dragon, did the only thing he could think of and fled his own workshop.


	17. Chapter Siebzehn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wensforth is the MVP

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at me sliding into base with 12 days to spare. Woohoo! Thank you all for your comments and kudos, they mean the absolute world to me. Here's the next chapter, and I hope you have a wonderful day.
> 
> Also, I don't normally do chapter summaries, but it needed to be said.

Essek was reeling. He was left stunned, frozen, as Yussa retreated, golden robes flashing as he darted out the door. His lips still tingled from where Yussa’s had crashed against him, he could still see his eyes as he pulled back, so wide, so panicked, before he had fled. Yussa had kissed him. Yussa had kissed him! What should he do? What could he do?

Chase him, some part of him said, chase him.

He sat down instead, his knees feeling weak, one hand placed over his lips. What . . . his train of thought drifted off, he found himself staring at the wall blankly. He should find Yussa, obviously, he had to find Yussa, they had to . . . talk? Was that right? His brain wasn’t working, fried, thoughts slipping through his fingers like sand.

By the Luxon, Yussa had kissed him.

Essek giggled slightly, before clamping both hands over his mouth, just in case anyone was listening in. This was impossible! Maybe he had been dreaming, maybe he had imagined it, but then why were his lips tingling, why had Yussa fled? Was he . . . ashamed? Why would he be ashamed? He was the one who had kissed Essek!

Yussa had kissed him.

His thoughts were going in circles and the only coherent thing he could pull from this was that Yussa had kissed him and he was . . . ecstatic. Was that the word? This was bad, he was the Shadowhand, he didn’t have trouble stringing words together, but here he was, struggling to pin down what he was feeling. Confused. Happy. Surprised. Delighted. Disbelieving. Ecstatic. All that and more.

Yussa had kissed him.

And then he fled.

And Essek still had his meeting in an hour or two.

It all felt so . . . surreal.

“He kissed me,” he found himself saying into the empty room, and this time, his lips pulled back into a delighted smile.

. . .

Halas was fuming. It was the only word he could think of at the moment. Well no, not exactly, there were plenty of other words. Irate. Incensed. Livid. Seething. Enraged. But they all meant the same thing, which meant he was fuming, silently within his ruby prison. He’d half thought he’d misheard things, he didn’t normally listen in to people kissing after all, he had better things to do with his time. But no, he hadn’t misheard things. Yussa, the idiot, had kissed Essek. 

Halas was on the verge of tears.

Why? Why? Why? 

Who in their right mind would choose kissing over spell work and knowledge?

No one, that’s who.

These wizards were idiots.

Which was, he guessed, good for him, because if they were idiots, then they would forget about him, heed his presence less. Perhaps he could use this, somehow, perhaps he could take advantage of this change of pace, of this shift in their routine. But the real question was, how?

. . .

Yussa was panicking. He didn’t remember running down the halls, he didn’t remember opening doors and slamming them shut, he didn’t remember rushing down stairs, from light to dark, from above the earth to below. He did remember stumbling to a halt in his hoard, taking in huge gasps of breath, trying to clear Essek’s sent from his mind, trying to ignore the ghost of his lips.

He was failing, failing utterly, because it was all he could think about.

His feet wanted to turn and run all the way back up and burst into his workshop where he’d left Essek. His hands itched to run themselves through the drow’s hair, to dance over his skin and trace the tips of his ears. He wanted to look at him, just look, to drink in the sight of his smiles, both half-smiles and not, to examine the little gestures he made. He wanted to listen to his voice, his laughter again. He wanted to taste him, again and again, until they were both dizzy from lack of breath.

But mostly he was panicking.

How? He knew the price getting attached came with. Oh yes, he knew it well, it had happened too many times before. And here he was again, stuck, with Essek on his mind and half-way into his heart. How? How’d he do it, and so quickly too? Yes, it was the mystery of him, his little secret ways and his magic that had drawn Yussa in, but that would have hardly been enough to make him stay. So how?

“Yussa?” A worried, quivering voice. Wensforth. “Yussa, what’s going on?” 

And at the sound of Wensforth’s voice, all his panic snapped into anger. Anger at Wensforth conspiring behind his back to draw him away from the Archmage’s Bane. Anger at Caleb and the Mighty Nien, who thought it was such a great idea to send the drow here. Anger at Essek, for being so pretty and smart and interesting, for snapping through his barriers as if they didn’t exist. Anger at himself, for being so weak, so helpless before it, so quick to care. “Get him out,” he growled, a dragon’s voice constricted by elven vocal cords, “Get him out. I don’t care what you do, just get him out!”

Then he shed it, that elvish form, not easily as before, put painfully, scales ripping up out of his skin, bones breaking into their proper shape. He relished the pain, because this was what he was. Not some golden mage, aloof, untouchable. He was an immortal creature, a beast of fire and magic, with scales that shone gold in even the dimmest of lights. He was not meant to connect with mortals, who would burn bright then blow out as easy as candle flame. That was not his lot in life.

He would do good to remember it.

. . .

Wensforth was worried. He was worried because Yussa was shifting, right below him, in a way that seemed terribly painful. He was worried because when Yussa spoke, it had been wildly, a growl full of panic and anger. He was worried because Essek was still upstairs, and Yussa was now a dragon, full of fury and fear, slipping deeper into his hoard, tail rasping against stone. Wensforth swallowed, shut the door, and began to run all the way up to the workshop.

What had happened?

Nothing good.

He paused before the workshop door, panting for breath, gasping for air, before he opened the door a crack. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, perhaps something that mirrored Yussa’s actions below, but it wasn’t what he got. Essek was sitting, balanced on a chair, staring dreamy eyed at the wall, hand covering his mouth, smile barely visible. Wensforth couldn’t put the pieces together, he felt like he was looking at two different puzzle pieces, trying to see where they connected. 

“What happened?” He hissed as he entered, scurrying over to the drow’s side.

Essek looked at him, his eyes shining, his ears and cheeks tinged purple. “He kissed me,” he said, voice giddy and soft, and Wensforth’s world dropped from underneath him.

Oh.

_ Oh. _

That would explain Essek’s smile. That would explain Yussa’s panic and rage. The pieces had clicked together, and Wensforth wasn’t sure he liked the way they fit. Yussa was old, Wensforth wasn’t sure how old exactly, but he knew Yussa was old enough to have seen elven children grow and fade away. He had cared, once upon a time, for mortals, before pulling back, unable to cope with how he was left unchanging as they transformed then died. His helpers, Wensforth for example, were the only people he truly allowed in, but only one at a time. And now that he had Willi, Wensforth doubted that the dragon would bother with mortal helpers anymore after Wensforth passed away. And that Yussa, that Yussa who tried so hard to stay separate, had kissed Essek. 

No wonder he was freaking out.

No wonder he wanted Essek out of his tower.

He was thinking of pulling back again, hiding, cutting off everything and everyone, to retreat where nothing mortal and fleeting could touch him. And in doing so, he would hurt both himself and Essek, who sat there with such happy eyes.

No. 

Wensforth would not let him.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and gave Essek a smile. “Well, that changes things,” he said, as if it didn’t feel like the world was crumbling and he was trying to hold it together with string. Yussa, his master, deserved a happy ending, no matter how fleeting that was, he’d spent too long alone, and Wensforth didn’t want him to fade away without another there to watch him. “When is your meeting?”

Essek blinked at him, confusion flashing across his features, before his blank mask was reinstated. “In about an hour and a half. Why?”

“Where is it?”

Essek told him, and Wensforth nodded, “I’ll be frank with you, Essek. The master is not used to caring for people, and he is no longer used to being surprised either. The long and short of it is he’s panicking.”

Essek raised an eyebrow. “Panicking? He was the one who kissed me.”

“He probably wasn’t planning to.” He was also a stupid idiot who needed a kick to the rear end to get him moving in the right direction, but Wensforth didn’t say that. “So, he’s panicking. The best thing for you to do now is go to that meeting and head home. The master isn’t in his right state of mind when he panics-”

“I don’t think anyone is.”

“True, but he tends to be worse than most. Come back tomorrow, actually, make that the day after tomorrow. He needs time to process, and I need time to work on him.”

Essek nodded, slowly. “I see.”

Wensforth didn’t think he did, but Essek was an elf, so there was a chance. “Go, Essek, go, and be safe. And come back prepared for war.”

. . .

Home, Essek was both relieved and almost disappointed. His rooms were dark, the house empty, and he floated across space until he found himself sitting at his desk, head cradled in his hands. The meeting had been, well, honestly, Essek couldn’t really remember, he’d probably acted like a fool new to the job. His head had been full of Wensforth’s words and Yussa’s kiss at the time. It still was.

Yussa was panicking, that was what the goblin had said. Yussa, panicking. The words didn’t seem to go together, but it fit the expression in the other wizard’s eyes when he had pulled back. Essek wondered what would have happened if he’d recovered sooner, managed to grab him and pull him back in. Would they have talked? Would they have kissed again? Would they have stopped at a kiss?

His cheeks were hot beneath his hands, his lips dry, a fluttering feeling in his stomach. He closed his eyes, tried to figure out what he wanted. There was desire there, obviously, Yussa was very attractive, but was it more than just desire? Yussa was smart, and secretive, a mystery wrapped in a package delightful to look at. He was challenging, and amusing, and had a collection of books most wizards would kill for. He was awkward at times, inhuman at others, with a desire to know that was wonderfully similar to Essek’s own. 

And the kiss had been nice, better then nice, even if it had only lasted for a few seconds at most.

Essek groaned and rubbed his eyes. His mind was a mess, his thoughts worse. He liked Yussa, as a person, but was there more? Or was this simply lust? 

“Gah,” he said, dropping a hand to the desk, tapping the wood while massaging his forehead with the other. “What am I thinking?” So, so confused. He needed to . . . no, that was a horrible idea. Absolutely the worst. He did not want to bring him in on this. He wouldn’t live it down for ages. But his hands were already moving, his lips already casting the spell. “Verin,” was that his voice? He sounded torn up and worried and confused all at the same time. He moistened his lips, tried again. “Verin,” that was better, “are you in Rosohna at the moment? I need to talk to you if possible.”

A pause.

Long and lasting.

Then Taskhand Verin Theyless, Essek’s younger brother replied. “Sup big bro, I’m in Rosonha at the moment. Whatcha need?”

. . .

Sometime later, Yussa shifted back into elven form, eyes glowing dimly in the darkness. His breath sounded too loud, his heartbeat echoed in his ears. Somewhere above, Wensforth waited, questions on the tip of his tongue, ready to push and prod Yussa into the direction he thought the dragon should go.

But Yussa was not to be pushed and prodded, he had made up his mind, simple as that.

He knew what he needed to do.

The invisibility spell was simplicity itself, and he made his way from his hoard, silent, unseen, his twisting thoughts still and quiet. He made his way up the stairs, from room to room to room. 

Caleb had sent Essek to distract Yussa from doing something disastrous.

Wensforth had helped because he’d been worried.

And Essek? Oh, at first, sure, he’d been going along with Caleb’s and Wensforth’s little plan, but what about now? He didn’t know. He’d almost convinced himself he didn’t care, because for whatever reason, the result was the same. Yussa had been pulled of course, tangled up in something he had not meant to get into.

He stood in front of his workshop, pushed open the door and slipped in. On one of the tables sat the Archmage's Bane, on the other sat the artifact he had found. He picked it up, stared at it, twisting it this way and that.

He had allowed himself to get distracted, had allowed himself to forget what he’d been meaning to do. This time, when he reached for the Archmage’s Bane, it wasn’t with curiosity. This time, he felt almost cold, devoid, a bit sad, a bit desperate. A distraction, Essek had distracted him from this. And now, this would distract him from Essek. 

He did not want to care again.

A dozen ways in, a dozen little paths to a world half-way explored. He grabbed his map, chose his path, and then . . .

he was gone.


	18. Chapter Achtzehn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at me, sliding in before the end of the month. BAM. Anywho, thank you all for your comments and kudos! You people are the absolute best ever! I hope you enjoy this next chapter and I hope you have a wonderful day!

Essek sat in his kitchen, fingers tapping restlessly against the wood of the table. This was a bad idea, the worst, he should cancel, tell Verin that it was nothing and he didn’t need to come over. But it wasn’t nothing, because Essek had spent what felt like all last night replaying the kiss in his mind. Over and over again, as if it was on loop. He’d barely gotten any sleep last night, and all he could think was what if? What if this wasn’t some infatuation? What if it was something real and longer lasting? What if Yussa hadn’t ran? What if Essek had kissed him back? And the last one, which had popped into his brain in the early hours of the morning and refused to leave, what if Yussa was a gold dragon?

It would explain it, his panic, his flight, not being used to caring nor being used to being surprised. What would change if he was? Everything, nothing. Because if Yussa was a gold dragon, as so much evidence seemed to suggest, then that would mean he was an immortal creature, fated to watch everyone around him fade and die away.

Including Essek.

And that thought made his throat close up and his fingers stop tapping and his heart stop beating momentarily. Because that would change so much. Could Essek honestly pursue something that was destined for such a cruel end? Because although most might expect him to live for a very long time, Essek had no illusions, his life was on a time limit, and that limit would run out the minute the Bright Queen discovered his betrayal. And that led to the next point. Obviously, Yussa found him attractive, but if he truly cared, how would he react to Essek’s betrayal of his own country? About the fact that he started a war for the sake of appeasing his curiosity? Sure, Yussa seemed more laissez faire when it came to rules, but how much did Essek truly know about Yussa?

He knew that Yussa was powerful. He knew that Yussa was accustomed to the Mighty Nien’s antics. He knew that Yussa got hung up on ideas then discarded them when something new and interesting caught his eye. He knew that Yussa was a collector, was intelligent, was funny. He knew that Yussa found him attractive, attractive enough to kiss him even if he hadn’t meant to. He knew that Yussa hadn’t cared in a very long time. He knew that there was the possibility of Yussa being a golden dragon.

But beyond that, he knew nothing.

He knew nothing of his past, of what he had doing before landing in Nicodranous. Yussa was older than Essek, that much was obvious, and if he was a dragon, then he was way, way older than Essek. Old enough to have left a mark on history. Curiosity poked at him, questioning, prodding. He shouldn’t, he really shouldn’t pry, especially after everything. But . . . what were the odds that Essek had something in his own collection of books that was connected to Yussa? Low, very low indeed. And it was either that, or paperwork, and he needed something to take his mind off things before Verin came and relentlessly made fun of him in the way younger siblings were apt to do.

Essek pushed himself out of his chair and headed to his study. 

. . .

He came too with a knock on his door. Loud and imposing. A pay attention to me kind of knock. It was followed by a succession of knocks, one after another, in a variety of patterns that could only be soldier talk for ‘the person who lives here is an idiot of the biggest kind’. Honestly, he was very glad that the Mighty Nien had somehow contrived to never meet his brother. For the sake of his sanity, he hoped that would continue to be the case.

He closed his book, stood, and floated through his house until he could open the front door, a bit more sharply then necessary. His brother stood there in his casual clothes, which meant that he looked like he’d been dressed in rags two sizes too big for him. His fist was held up for another one of his overly complicated knocks, and his eyes, silver like Essek’s, brightened when he opened the door. “Big bro! Wassup?”

Essek’s eyes narrowed. “Problem child.”

Verin waved a finger at him. “Now, now, don’t take that tone with me, brother dear. We both know you wouldn’t have called if you didn’t have a problem that needed my help. So let me in and let's have a chat. Besides, it's been so long!”

Essek briefly debated shutting the door in Verin’s face, but then his . . . problem wouldn’t get anywhere. He needed alcohol for this. So much alcohol. He stepped aside to let Verin in. “Yes, brother dear,” the words were gritted out, “please do bring your sunny cheer in here, and make light of my troubles.”

“You need someone to do it,” Verin tapped a wall, “this place is as gloomy as your face. And is that dust? I thought you were meticulous about your home being squeaky clean.” He smirked, “has somebody been out and about? I hardly believe it. Next thing I know you’ll be having a wild night around town.” He added an eyebrow waggle to the last bit, and Essek debated hitting him over the head with a book. He doubted it would help though, Verin’s skull was as dense as granite.

Essek wasn’t normally moved to contemplating physical murder, if he had to kill, he preferred spells, much less mess that way.

Verin glanced at him, “My, my, are you blushing? Don’t tell me you’ve,” he paused for dramatic affect, “met someone?”

But Verin? Verin was the one exception.

Essek forced his mask back on his face, although he could feel his eyebrow twitching in annoyance. “Would you like some tea, brother dear? Or perhaps something stronger?”

“When you say it like that, I’m half afraid it would be poisoned.”

“If only.”

. . .

Ten minutes later, Essek and Verin were sitting at the kitchen table, teacups in hand. Essek was a little bit worse for where, his hair disheveled and his clothes disarranged. Verin’s hair was now a bright shocking pink, too shocking to look at. He deserved it. Essek hated noogies, he hated the fact that Verin may have been smaller than him, but was also stronger than him, and wasn’t adverse to using his strength, while Essek was stuck with harmless spells. 

Ah, brotherly love, truly, he wouldn’t wish it on his worst enemies.

“So,” Verin said, somehow unconcerned about how bright his hair had become, “what did you want to talk about?”

Essek resisted the urge to say ‘your funeral plans’, but it was a very close call. He instead took an aggressive sip of his tea before setting it down and saying in as composed a voice as he could manage, “I met someone.”

Verin shot up, eyes wide. “Seriously? I was just joshing you! Does that mean you’re finally done moping over that other wizard dude?”

Essek sucked in a sharp breath and tightened his grip on his teacup, trying very hard not to dump it on Verin’s head. “That was years ago. And I wasn’t moping.”

Verin grabbed a sugar cube and threw it at him. It missed, hitting the wall behind Essek’s head. “Yes, you were.”

“No, I wasn’t.”

“Was too.”

“Was not.”

“Was too.”

“Was not.”

“Was too.”

“Was not.”

“Was too.”

“Do you know how childish you sound right now?”

“Not as childish as you.”

Essek closed his eyes and growled, low and long. “I regret this, get out of my house.”

“Hey!” Verin protested. “You’re the one who called me here!”

Essek jerked up, pointing his finger aggressively at his younger brother. “You. Out. Now.”

. . .

An hour later, there was another knock at his door. Overly complicated, some kind of military code and Essek almost screamed in fury. He floated over to his door, yanked it open, and glared at Verin, whose hair was still hot pink. “I thought I told you to go away.”

“I did go away,” Verin said, grinning crookedly, “you never told me not to come back.”

Essek slammed the door shut in his face. 

Verin started knocking again.

Essek counted to ten, and yanked the door open for the second time. “What?”

Verin held his hands up. “Okay, okay, I’ll stop. You said you needed to talk. Let’s talk.”

. . .

Take two, this time with alcohol instead of tea, and Essek was recounting the story from the beginning, strangling the urge to murder his brother with every smothered snort. At least he hadn’t burst out laughing yet. “And then he kissed me.” Essek said, swallowing what had to be his third cup of wine. “And he ran. He ran. From me. In his own workshop.”

“He ran? Did you chase him down and pin him to a wall and ravish him?”

Essek choked. “What? No, no. I’m not - no.”

“So what did you do?”

“I froze, and sat down, and kinda just, I don’t know, sat in a daze for thirty minutes. But get this,” he slammed his cup against the tabletop, “Wensforth came up and told me he would need time. He would! That he was the one freaking out and panicking and what the fuck ever because he hadn’t meant to kiss me!” His voice was rising, and . . . was he swearing? Ugh. He drained the rest of the cup, stared at the empty bottom. “I don’t think I’m drunk enough for this.”

Verin shrugged, “I’m definitely not. Do you like him?”

Essek grabbed the bottle of wine and refilled his cup. “I - he’s gorgeous Verin. Absolutely gorgeous. He’s got this lovely warm brown skin, I think the word is sun-kissed skin? Sun-kissed, something, it’s got this golden sheen and it’s beautiful. Anyway, lovely skin, and his hair, it isn’t white, it’s like cream, and it goes all the way down his back in this wonderful braid and I can’t help but wonder what it would look like if he took it down. I think I would die if he did, Verin. And his eyes, don't get me started on his eyes, they're gorgeous. They’re always shining and bright, and they’re like molten gold, and sometimes I swear I’m drowning in them. And he’s so smart, Verin, gosh, one of the smartest people I know. And he’s got this little challenging smirk tha -”

“LALALALALA can’t hear you!” Verin said, clamping his hands over his ears. “I didn’t sign up for this!”

“Yes you did.” Essek argued, “you asked whether I liked him.”

“And I’m going to asume buy the fucking paragraph you just rambled out that you do.”

“I like looking at him, I mean, who wouldn’t? He’s perfect. But attraction, it's not something you want to build a relationship on.”

“Aha, you said relationship.”

Essek froze, raising his hands to his lips, “I did, didn’t I.” Then he grabbed his teacup and drained it. “Fuck. I hadn’t realized it had gotten this far. Fuck. I’m screwed.” His voice rose, “I can’t have a relationship with him! I’m the Shadowhand! And he lives in Nicodranous! I can’t, I have so much work, the only reason I’m able to see him now is because I’m working on trade relations! But as soon as Leylas puts me on another job I won’t have time to see him and I -”

“Hey, hey, calm down. Shit, I think you might have had too much to drink. By the Luxon I forgot you can’t hold your liquor. Here, let me take that.” He grabbed the wine bottle and sighed, “so you like him, so you think you might want to have a relationship with him, and you’re afraid work will get in the way. That’s not so bad, plenty of people have made it work before.”

“But he’s a dragon!” The words were ripped out of his mouth before he could stop them. “A gold one at that!”

Verin rocked back as if struck. “Do you know for certain?”

“No, but the evidence suggests that he is. A -”

“No wait, don't list the evidence, sheesh, I believe you.”

“But the point is that gold dragons are inherently good, and I am not. We both know that.” They fell silent, because it was true. Verin might not know about Essek’s betrayal, but he knew about the rest. Essek was the Shadowhand, and it was not a job that got handed out to people like Verin, good people who wanted to help the dynasty. The Shadowhand was the title given to someone ambitious and powerful, willing to do whatever it took to reach a certain goal. He was quite literally the Queen’s shadow hand, orchestrating and controlling what she could not. Spymaster, assassin if needed, researcher into darker arts, torturer if necessary. Whatever the Queen couldn’t do publicly, she did through him. He wasn’t a good person, and it went beyond the Luxon incident, despite the changes the Mighty Nien had done to him. “And, I don’t . . . I don’t want to hurt him. He’s immortal, and I can imagine the pain loving a mortal can bring.” And yes, he did, he did know that all too well. “I can’t put him through that.”

“Well,” Verin said finally, after Essek’s words had faded away, “this is a bit of a pickle. But, if I may say, he already cares, Essek. He kissed you, didn’t he? So pushing him away will only hurt more, and it will hurt you both.”

“So what do you suggest I do?” Essek mumbled, wiping his palm against his cheeks. He’d been crying, his mask truly cracked in two. He shouldn’t have drunk so much. He really, really shouldn’t have. He knew better.

“I suggest that you chase him.” Verin said, eyes sharp despite his own intake of alcohol. “I suggest you grab on and don’t let go unless you know that he doesn’t want you. And you tell him that if he hurts you in any way, then, dragon or not, I will kick his ass and dump it in the Lucidian Ocean.

Essek laughed, the barest hint of a chuckle. But now hope was starting to burn in his chest, hope that this could work out, hope that they could figure out something. “You know what? I might just do that.”

Verin raised his cup to an empty toast. “You do that brother. You do that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact: I think I channeled the souls of older siblings everywhere to write this chapter.


	19. Chapter Neunzehn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Thank you all for your comments and kudos, they, and you all, are the absolute best! Here's the next chapter and I hope you have a wonderful day!

A day later, and Essek was meticulously applying makeup and jewelry and clothes the way others would put on armor. This was what he wore on the most important of meetings, the ones where he had to be the center of attention no matter what anyone else attempted. Which meant that he couldn’t just be attention grabbing, he had to be subtle as well, so that whoever looked at him wouldn’t be able to look away because the longer they stared the more they noticed. His cloak became a dark grey, flashing silver and gold with each swish and turn, darker embroidery on the sleeves and hem, knots and complex geometric designs, sparkling occasionally when they caught the light. The makeup was minimalist, nothing too drastic, but enough to make his skin shimmer and draw attention to his eyes. He kept the jewelry to a minimum as well, but the ones he chose were ornate and eye catching. 

He only wore one ring, the gold one for Yussa’s spell.

When he was done, he leaned back, staring at the mirror. Did he look confident? Ready for this confrontation? He tried the speech out in his mind, the words that he would use, the questions he would ask. Somehow, he couldn’t help but think that they would all fly out of his head the minute he saw Yussa’s face.

Two days, and somehow Essek already missed him like he would a lost limb. He kept on listening for his voice, kept on twisting to see his golden eyes. Yussa’s ghost flitted across his mind, and whatever happened today it would be put to rest.

He had his spell chosen today, ready and waiting, components sitting safely in their bag.

He made the symbols in the air, fingers flicking in elegant swoops, then spoke. “Wensforth, I hope everything is going well. I shall be over shortly.”

A second’s pause, a nervous answer. “Uh . . . good! That’s good! Please come as fast as possible!”

Essek frowned, because Wensforth had almost sounded panicked and desperate there, but if something was truly going on with Yussa, then wouldn’t Wensforth have told him to stay away? Oh well, it was too late for second thoughts, and if Essek waited any longer, then he would lose whatever courage Verin’s talk had managed to beat into him. Essek took out his chalk and started to draw.

. . .

When Essek appeared, Wensforth was already there, pacing the chamber, wringing his hands, muttering worriedly under his breath. Essek blinked, startled by the sight. “Wensforth, is everything alright?”

The goblin jumped, twisted to stare at him with wide, terrified eyes. “No, it's not! I swear I didn’t know he would do it! I went to check on him but he was already gone, I couldn’t find him anywhere!”

Essek floated back slightly, unease clawing at his throat, “Do what Wensforth? What did Yussa do?’

Wensforth’s voice rose a notch, panicked and worried and perhaps a bit furious, “He went into the Archmage’s Bane!”

And Essek’s whole world tipped out from under him.

. . .

Really, Yussa decided as he walked through the Gardens, map in his hand, the sphere wasn’t overtly dangerous as long as he didn’t use his magic. That was where he’d messed up last time. If he didn’t use magic this time, he would be fine, and if one of those golems appeared, he would shift and tear it apart. A simple plan.

The only one he was able to think up of now.

Because try as he might, Essek was still running through his mind, impossible to get out, impossible to ignore. 

He closed his eyes, forced them open again, and pulled out the device, fingers tracing over the metal, the dips and curves, the carvings etched into the surface. It would be easier to cast a spell now, to trace its origins via magic, but no, that would not be wise. 

He would have to do this the old fashioned way.

. . .

Essek stared at the Archmage’s Bane, resisting the urge to throw it out a window. “He went in there?”

“Yes,” Wensforth muttered, bobbing his head and shifting from foot to foot. “He must have used a spell to get past me. I didn’t think he would do something like this! I really should have though, really, really should have.” He sighed, a frustrated puff of air.

Essek floated away from the Archmage's bane, struggling with his frustration. Yussa had ran away. Yussa had ran away again. Had ran from the very prospect that Essek might come back, had ran to the only place he could go, a place designed specifically to deal with troublesome mages. Well too bad for Yussa, Essek wasn’t going to let him get away, not like this, with too many words unsaid. “I’m going after him.”

“WHAT?!” Wensforth screached, “You shouldn’t! Magic, wizards, it’s literally a death trap! We should get Allura, or the Mighty Nein, someone . . .”

“How long has he been in there?” And when Essek spoke it was in the cold, impassive tones of the Shadowhand, calculating, contemplating, the voice of someone who was used to impossible situations, faced them daily.

“Since you left, I think,” Wensforth said, a bit numbly, “So, two days?”    
“There is a time dilation, correct?” Essek asked, tilting his head, watching the light play on the surface of the sphere, tracing possible ways in. He remembered Bueregaurd mentioning a time dilation, but he remembered Caleb’s descriptions of the rooms and devices better.

“Yes,” Wensforth said. “A day here is an hour there. Yussa was quite excited about that, and wanted to figure out the device that controls that. But you can’t, you really shouldn’t. That place trapped Yussa last time, it can take you to!”

Two days, which meant Yussa had been in the sphere for roughly two hours. He couldn’t have gotten far then. Essek would have to be careful. But he didn’t have a map, didn’t have a way to find the other, unless . . . He turned, away from the sphere, towards the ruby sitting innocently underneath it’s nexis of magic. “No, it won’t.” He reached out a hand, spell already pouring from his lips.

. . .

Halas was delighted by this change of pace. Yussa had fled, fled into Halas’ sphere, trying to avoid his feelings for the other wizard. Halas could have told him it was useless, that only idiots like him ran when faced with emotions they allowed themselves to feel. But no, Halas hadn’t had the chance to tell him, because Yussa was too cautious, for all of his curiosity, to chat with a wizard in a ruby.

But Essek?

Now there was a surprise, because Halas had expected the same caution from Essek. Essek was one who held his cards close to his chest, for all the fact he shared his homelands magic, and to risk whatever dangers chatting with Halas would bring seemed out of character for him. And certainly Essek would not risk the potential consequences of taking Halas with him into the heirloom sphere. No one would be that stupid, not even the Mighty Nein, who’d been so cautious themselves when dealing with him.

But Halas could hear him now, dismissing the protections Yussa had so carefully wrought. And now, a hand was wrapping itself around the ruby, lifting it off the table, and Halas could feel the connection snap into place. “Well this is a surprise,” he said, all cold disdain and indifference, as if he wasn’t inwardly gleeful, “I thought that I had been left to rot.”

“Halas, I presume.” Said Essek, voice cold and collected, a blade hidden by silk. In the background, Halas could hear Wensfoth panicked, begging, pleading for Essek to put the ruby down. Smart goblin, a shame Essek did not listen. A shame for Essek, at least.

“The one and only. And who are you?” He already knew, but he wanted to see how Essek would try to play this game.

“No one important,” he said, and Halas could have laughed. Clever boy, hiding who he was, but it did not matter because Halas already knew. Not that he could call the bluff without revealing his own secrets, not yet, at least. “Just someone,” Essek continued, “Who needs your help with a little problem. That’s all.”


	20. Chapter Zwanzig

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey ya'll! Thanks so much for your comments and kudos, you guy are the bomb! Hope you all enjoy this next chapter and have a wonderful day!

Essek appeared in a stone room, four pillars, four banners. He hovered above the floor, ruby grasped in his palm. “We are in a room with four tapestries.”

_ “Red, blue, green and black, correct?”  _ Came Halas’ voice, slipping into his mind. He didn’t like it, the coldness of it, how easily the wizard had offered his help, but he had no choice. 

“Correct,” he said it smoothly, as if he didn’t care what consequences might come by bringing in the gem into Halas’ domain.

_ “The red tapestry leads you to the study, and the black tapestry leads to the dining room. You do realize it will be almost impossible to find what you’re looking for.” _

“Well you’re certainly chatty,” Essek muttered, “Do you have a room that allows you to look at the other rooms or locate invaders?” Of course he did, if he was paranoid to create this place, he was paranoid enough to create a room like that.

_ “So you’re looking for someone, not something. Now that is an entirely different story. Take the black tapestry.” _

Essek stared at the tapestry, the black banner with Halas’ symbol embroidered in gold in the middle of it. Did he take it? Halas could be leading him nowhere or anywhere, there was no way to tell. And if Essek didn’t choose, then he might not find Yussa in time. And if he did, who knew what Halas would do? 

He reached out, moved the tapestry, and began to investigate the statue. It wasn’t hard to find the mechanism, and soon he was pushing the statue clockwise to show the door etched onto it’s back. He reached out, pressed the engraved knob, and disappeared.

. . .

Yussa reached the tree with the large knot, ignoring the glowing motes that tried to stick to his skin. They hurt, a bit, but if he retaliated then there would be more. He reached out, running his hands over the wood, feeling the warmth of it, the thrum of his fingers, then pushed. It cracked open, he stepped inside, and the motes dissolved, the world shifting to another place. Vertigo hit for a second, the world around him spinning, wrong so wrong.

Because he was standing on the ceiling and above him were tables and chairs and desks, a fireplace dominating one wall, flames flickering in blues and greens. There was a half finished game of dragon chess on one of the tables, flanked by two plush chairs. Another table held pots of inks and paints besides a tripod with a half finished canvas. Bookshelves lined the walls, with names that seemed more akin to light reading then to heavy tombs of information.

And he was still on the ceiling. No, the ceiling was the floor, everything else was on the ceiling. A challenge room then, to read and play chess and paint while upside down. Not for relaxation, but to test Halas’ mental capabilities. Yussa sat, pulled out an inkpot and quill, then began to draw out the room on his map.

. . .

The black tapestry led to the Dining Hall, and from there, they would move on to the Guest Chambers, then to the Diamond Entrance, then to the Garden, then to the Tower Machine. From the Tower Machine they could enter any room in his Halls. If Halas could have smiled, he would have. A surveillance room? He did have one, clever Essek for noticing. The path to it, however, was dangerous, and using magic in his halls was dangerous as well. 

Perhaps if he had used his surveillance room more often, he wouldn’t be stuck as a gem now.

It was a sour thought, poisoning his good mood. “This is the room?” Essek asked, “It looks like a dining hall. Who would you have been entertaining?”

His students. His researchers. His traitors. They were dead now though, long gone. Good riddance too, perhaps their skeletons littered the halls. That was a cheerful thought. “No, this is not the room, we have quite a ways to go before now. Who are you looking for?” No answer, and Halas could have laughed, “Sit, if you are hungry, wish for whatever you would like to eat and it will appear.”

“I am not hungry,” it was said stiffly, “which way now?”

This elf . . . no fun at all. “At the end of the room should be a set of double doors. Open them up, they’ll be the next step in your journey.” Was there a shortcut? Absolutely. But he needed time if this was going to work, and besides, it would be interesting to see how Essek held up to the challenges his Halls presented.

. . .

Yussa had been right, the books were light reads. A few historical texts, a few religious novels, some story books, local legends of various places, customs for different empires long dead. Light reading, for a wizard at least. The flames changed colors, from blues and greens to purples and pinks to golds and silvers, there was a mechanism built into the fireplace that controlled the flames. The half finished dragon chess game was a puzzler, had Halas been playing against himself or a companion? The answer came when he sat in the seat, ignoring the way his blood rushed to his head, and moved a piece.

A different piece moved right after.

An invisible opponent. 

That excited him, was the spell in the pieces or the board? Perhaps it was on the table, or the opposing chair. He was going to have to take it all back into his own tower to examine it properly. But for now, he could take the time to finish the game. Complete what Halas had started so long ago. It was an intriguing thought. According to the Mighty Nein, Halas had been working on cloning himself and immortality, which paired up with his own findings. But what wizard would be content to be stuck in a gem forever, especially since that hadn’t been their own choice in the first place?

Sabotage, the enemy of every inventor and creator, of every spellcaster with an idea in mind. 

What had been taken from the Halls because of that one act? Pillaged and stolen . . . Yussa might never know. All he could do know was focus on what was still here. He moved the last piece, “Checkmate,” he told his invisible opponent.

One of the bookcases slid open, the dragon chess pieces flew to their proper places. What would have happened if his opponent had won? Would a different door have opened? Would something else have happened? Oh well, he’d find out next time. He got up, went over to the newly revealed door, and stepped through.

. . .

They moved through the Quest Chambers quickly, and Essek found himself in a diamond shaped room, turquoise marble glinting softly in the dim lights. He glanced around as Halas prattled in his mind,  _ “If you look up, you’ll see a relief sculpture that I believe you would find quite interesting.” _ Essek wondered if the wizard had been getting lonely, it would make sense. Thousands of years trapped in a gem, only to be found then locked away again. If Halas was lonely, Essek could use that. 

“Amazing,” he said, not looking up, putting the obligatory note of awe into the word. “Which door?”

_ “The gold arch,”  _ Halas said, and if Essek didn’t know better, he could have sworn the wizard sounded smug,  _ “It will take you to the garden, which will take you to the tower.” _

“Which will take me to the surveillance room, I assume,” he said, floating through the arch. 

_ “Eventually.”  _

. . .

Idiot. Suspicious, clever, but an idiot nonetheless. If he’d looked at the relief, he would have figured it out. There was, after all, every door in his Halls etched into the relief. It would make sense that some or all of them would lead to other rooms. Which they did. Halas was particularly proud of that relief, he has spent ages crafting the spells for each tiny door.

Poor, poor Essek had just missed his best chance at finding Loverboy. 

Shame.

. . .

The door led Yussa to a place that smelled heavily of sulfur and methane, a swamp. He couldn’t see the edges of the room, just a dense thicket of trees with knobby roots and greenish water. There was a path made with the roots, makeshift stepping stones that lead to something that looked a lot like solid ground. He glanced back, this doorway was an arch between trunk and branch, a faint shimmer in the air the only thing that showed its significance. He would have to keep an eye out for other doorways like this.

He started down the path, careful not to fall into the water. What lived in swamps? Crocodiles, mosquitoes. He could hear those right now, buzzing loudly in his ear. Was this another room in the Halls? Or had he been teleported to a fixed location?

So many questions, so many possibilities, he loved it. 

He continued walking, stepping carefully onto the supposedly solid ground. It squished under his feet, but he didn’t sink. Carefully, he continued on his path, keeping an eye out for other doors. Nothing, nothing that a passing glance revealed at least. Except, small things kept catching his attention. A snapped branch, long since healed, the briefest glimpse of something that could have been old bone, the stench of something reptilian. He slowed his pace, picked up his robes and knotted them around his knees so they wouldn’t be so loud.

He was hearing something now, labored breathing, harsh and heavy and rattling. 

He moved to the side slightly, keeping close to the trees, letting his breath come and go slowly and quietly. There was a clearing up ahead, the semi solid ground circling a brackish pool, the water coated in algae and slime. Something was in it, below the surface, he could see the glint of metal laying in the mossy grass. Chains, chains that lead to what? Contained what?

A bird flew from tree to tree, dipping and weaving through the air, trilling an alarm, over the pool. The water erupted, something leaped out, a mass of necks and tails and jaws that snapped hungrily in the air, slimy green and brown scales, coated with algae and water. The bird was gone, the creature slunk back halfway into the pool, heads bobbing as they glanced around hungrily. One, two, three, four, Yussa’s breath caught in his throat. Twenty two heads. A hydra with twenty two heads.

Halas had been using this to research the regenerative properties hydras had, that was obvious enough. He wouldn’t be surprised if there were a couple of trolls around too. But if Halas had chained it up when he was alive, how was this creature still moving? Still breathing? Unless Halas hadn’t used it just for research, but had experimented with it as well. 

Very carefully, Halas took out his map and began to sketch what he’d seen of this room.

. . .

_ “Welcome to my jungle.”  _ Halas said as Essek floated to the door. He was hit immediately by a wave of humidity, the sounds of running water and birdsong, the heady smell of flowers and greenery.  _ “The door you’re looking for is up that sheer cliff there. Be wary of the mites, and the bullywugs, and the froghemoth if the Mighty Nein hasn’t murdered them all yet. And the golems, of course.”  _ And there was such a smooth tone in his voice, smug and amused, that said ‘Look at what I have created. Your magic is nothing compared to the scale of mine.’

Essek was almost tempted to chuck the gem as far as possible. But he needed Halas, he could chuck him later. Or give him to Verrin. They could annoy each other, but Verrin would eventually lose his temper and either break the gem or sneak it back to Essek somehow. What would happen if he broke the ruby? Now that was a question he wouldn’t mind figuring out.

Essek sighed softly, “Very well, thank you for the advice.” He started off, towards the cliff that played peekaboo behind the trees. “Anything else I should know?”   
_ “The mites like magic. And they pack quite a sting.” _

Essek looked down at his wonderful robe, the enchantments woven through the fabric, and sighed. Delightful. He would have to use it anyway, no matter what dangers it might bring. There was no way he was going to traverse this place on own his two feet. Nope. Not at all. 

Something floated through the trees, winking in and out of his vision, glowing softly. Then another. Then another. He’d barely been here for five minutes. He stopped, closed his eyes, set down, almost stumbled. There was one function of the robe turned off, maybe that would throw them off for a bit. He could do this, he could do this. Just one foot in front of the other. He started along, slowly, carefully, trying not to fall. He’d have to get a crutch or something, something to help support himself with. Otherwise, this could take all day. 

The motes drifted closer, a crackling buzz barely audible. 

Wonderful.


	21. Chapter Einundzwanzig

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is officially one year of this fic! WOOHOO! Thanks to all who've stayed with me this long, and thank you all for your comments and kudos. You guys are amazing! Hope you all enjoy this next chapter and have a wonderful day!

Essek ended up making a crutch out of a fallen branch. One that had obviously been ripped off a tree by something large and most likely dangerous. It was almost funny, here he was, the quintessential wizard with his robe and staff, journeying through an extra dimensional sphere in search of a dragon who had run away because the prospect of facing his own feelings was apparently terrifying. It didn’t help that the mites were still there, following him as he hobbled his way to the cliff, drifting closer, then drifting away, before drifting closer once again. Their slight crackling hum blended in with the bird calls and the shifting leaves and the rustling underbrush around him. There were other sounds too, distant ones, as if large things were pushing through the trees. He wouldn’t be surprised if there were.

In his hand, the ruby had fallen silent, as if waiting for him to break. 

Instead, Essek just gritted his teeth and continued on, his robe dragging across the ground, eyes fixed on the sheer cliff and the path before him. Imagining, because this alone was what propelled him along now, what he would do to idiot dragons who couldn’t face their own actions.

. . .

Yussa had left the chained up hydra behind and was now carefully scouring the swamp for more doors or enclosures where other creatures with regenerative properties could be kept. He’d decided to dub this room the Menagerie, at least until he found a room that fit that name better. So far, besides the hydra, he hadn’t found much. A couple of alligators, scaly hides hidden by the greenish water. A few snakes, coils glimpsed in flashes of movement. More than a couple dragonflies, buzzing through the air and landing on branches. It wasn’t enough to make him stop and investigate. He moved from root to root with a lightness that would have been surprising to anyone who knew a wizard, his robes still tied around his knees to prevent them from dragging through the waters. 

If he came back to Wensforth with algae stains on his clothes, the goblin would probably kill him. 

Wensforth. Yussa paused for a second, balancing carefully on a knobby root close to the trunk of a tree. He placed his hand against the bark, leaned against it, a frown crossing his features. How long had he been in here for? He didn’t know, he’d lost track time. Certainly the goblin was getting worried by now, he might contact Allora, or the Mighty Nein, or even possibly Essek. 

Essek.

The drow’s face flashed before Yussa’s eyes. His silver eyes with the red pupils, quick and clever, so hard to discern the emotions beneath the surface. His white hair that looked so soft, that made Yussa’s fingers itch to run through it. His dark skin, smooth and probably silky to the touch. His lips, the small smirks and the half smiles and the feel of them against Yussa’s own. His voice, all music and hidden meaning, impossible to not listen too. His laughter, spiraling up into the air, and the overwhelming urge to make him laugh again and again. His mind, sharp and quick and intelligent, matching Yussa’s with every challenge.

Yussa leaned harder against the tree, shook his head. Shit. Shit shit shit shit. He’d meant to get away from Essek and thought of him, away from the other wizard who had managed to slip under his scales and nestle there as if he belonged. Essek, beautiful, intelligent, silver tongued, and ultimately mortal Essek. Who he’d been doing such a good job of not thinking about until this moment.

He sucked in a harsh breath, the stench of the swamp infusing his nose, stagnant water and rotting things, methane and sulfur, disgusting. Somehow, it was unable to wash away Essek’s far more pleasant scent from his mind. 

He closed his eyes. There were untold rooms before them. Mysteries just waiting to be discovered. Questions and answers galore. Certainly they would be enough to catch his curiosities attention, would be enough to make his mind wander away from thoughts of Essek. But no, somehow, it wasn’t. Somehow, his mind remained focus on wondering how to get the drow to laugh again and again and again, how to make him smile that completely uncontrolled smile, what it would be like to spend days with him in the library, doing research and reading comfortably by each other's side, what it would be like to wake up next to him, or to intertwine his fingers with his or to -

“NO.” He growled out, the sound rough against the back of his throat. “No.” He said again, softer this time, and he pushed away from the tree trunk and began to move through the swamp once again. It was getting monotonous, this room, this Menagerie. He needed to either find more creatures that showed hints of being experiments or research subjects, or he needed to find another door that led him to a new place. Something that wouldn’t allow his attention to wander so easily on thoughts best left forgotten in the crevices of his mind. 

He would not care about a mortal again.

Not like this.

. . .

_ “The illusion is not going to work,”  _ Halas spoke in Essek’s mind, and for once, he was glad of it, a conversation would help stem his rising annoyance. A mite had landed on him for the first time, a delicate round sphere of glowing energy. ‘Quite a sting’ his ass, it had felt like he’d been struck by lightning for a few seconds. Then, the others, as if a silent dinner bell had rung, had begun to float closer to him. The illusion had been a knee jerk reaction, but it seemed to be working for now. The mites crowded around the magical figure, a figure that resembled Yussa more than a bit. 

Perhaps it was a bit viscous, but Essek wasn’t feeling charitable at that moment. Honestly, Yussa was a dragon, an old one at that. He would have thought that meant that Yussa had learned that running away from things, especially intangible things that couldn’t be escaped no matter what, never worked. Yet here Essek was, trudging through a forest filled with magic eating lightning spheres, staggering around on his crutch, sweating up a storm in his robe, because the dragon had done exactly that. Luxon save him; if he survived this encounter with his sanity intact, he was going to set Verrin on Yussa. Yes, Yussa was a dragon, but Verrin was a younger brother with all the annoying traits younger brothers tended to have, like an ability to get out of anything practically unscathed. In a fight between Yussa and Verrin, Essek would always bet on Verrin.

He just had to find Yussa and drag his scaly ass out of here first.

“It’s working,” he told Halas, his voice cold and smooth without a trace of the annoyance that ran like a live wire through his blood.

_ “But only as long as the illusion holds, and they’ll drain it dry soon enough. Then you’ll have even more following you around hoping for scraps. You should really move faster.” _

Essek bared his teeth at the air. This was as fast as he got without floating, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to tell Halas that. “Oh, and how did you get through here? I would assume the greatest wizard in all of Exandria would have figured that bit out.” Silence, and Essek allowed a bit of dry disdain to slip into his voice, “Oh? Did you not? Don’t tell me you created a trap without a back door for yourself. Did you just avoid this room entirely then, unable to face your design flaw?”

_ “You’re so sharp with words,”  _ Halas retorted, his zemnian accent somewhat thicker,  _ “shame they’ll never get you anywhere. Do you honestly think I’ll spill just because you insult my planning?” _

“Ah,” Essek said, nodding even though Halas couldn’t see him, “So it was on purpose then. Did you throw the traitors in here? Or your research partners to be? Those who made it out were forgiven or hired? Should I expect to step on piles of bones hidden by the underbrush?”

_ “Perhaps, and perhaps your bones will join them. I’m almost positive the mites will be done with their meal about now. You could ask them.” _

Essek gave himself a bit of leeway, rolled his eyes, and half turned. Halas was, unfortunately, right. The illusion was fading. A few mites still clung to it, greedily draining, light pulsing like a heartbeat. Others had separated from the main pack and had drifted his way again. Essek sighed softly, and sent another illusion crashing through the underbrush, away from him. The mites zoomed after it, leaving trails of light in their wake. He turned back to his path and continued hobbling on. 

_ “You should have reached the cliff by now,”  _ Halas said, and Essek glanced at the cliff. It wasn’t far, but how long had he been in here? An hour already? With his luck, he had at least an hour to go.  _ “Something slowing you down?” _

“Yes,” he replied smoothly, “your mites.”

There was a brief pause, something that might have been a laugh.  _ “Touche.” _

  
. . .

Yussa found another door, and stepped through it gladly. He was hit with a sweet summer smell, and a blue sky above him, a sun burning brightly, half way covered by clouds. He was in a clearing, surrounded by trees, shadows gathering beneath their boughs. The clearing was covered in flowers, all kinds, bending and shifting with the breeze, a tapestry of color woven through with green. 

And in the middle of the clearing filled with flowers, there was a tree. An old one, with long twisted branches, green-grey lichen dangling of the limbs, turned green-gold by the sun’s light. The bark was cracked and thick, built up with age before splitting as the tree continued to grow. The dark bark was speckled with greys and strips of greens, lichen and moss that had made their home amongst the crevasses. It’s branches swayed and cracked with the breeze, leaves shifting together like they were whispering words, and if Yussa paid close enough attention, he might be able to decipher their speech. But what drew Yussa’s attention wasn’t the tree, but the one clinging to it like a child would to its parent. This one’s bark was smoother, lighter in color, bands of dark wrapping around the moss free trunk. It clung to the older, it’s roots wrapped around branches and trunk, finding the cracks in the old bark, plunging down the sides to get a grip in the earth below. Smaller roots, thinner and redder like hair, drifted in the breeze, looking for handholds to snag. They stood there, intertwined, arms of the elder wrapping around the younger and lifting it towards the sky.

A picturesque scene.

Yussa didn’t buy it.

If these trees were in Halas’s sphere, then there had to be a reason. The only question was what? He untied the knot around his knees, allowing the hem of his robe to brush the grass and the flowers. He sat down, pulled out his map and inks, and began to sketch, relishing the feeling of the breeze as it slid past his face and tangled in his hair. Somewhere in the tree line, a bird called. Another answered it, then another and another. Insects hummed, the trees’ branches swayed and scraped together, their leaves rustling. It really did sound like whispering, a quiet murmur in his ears, like a conversation heard from far away.

He set his quill in his inkpot and stopped moving, listening hard. There was an oddness to the way the leaves rustled together, a cadence, rising and falling independently of the breeze. He glanced up at the intertwined trees, at the way the younger clung to the elder, at the way the branches swayed and the loose roots swung. He set his map to the side, and stood, up carefully, fingers drawing the symbols of a spell.

_ Tongues. _

  
. . .

They’d reached the cliff, and Essek had had to use five more illusions to get this far without being spotted. Halas had informed him, almost cheerfully, about how he’d probably attracted the attention of a golem by now. Essek had informed him less than cheerfully that if he was caught, Halas was never going to get out of the sphere again. Currently, the gem was sulking, and currently, Essek was fuming. He was sick and tired of this Garden with it’s glowing, magic eating mites and it’s twisted, root and plant covered ground. And he was definitely disgusted with the fact that the entrance he needed was sixty feet in front of him. 

He certain now that the garden was not for Halas, but for anyone stupid enough to enter the sphere. 

He allowed himself the quietest of sighs, then glanced around. The area around him was clear of mites, probably still feasting off his last illusion. So he felt relatively safe casting fly on himself and shooting up to the entrance. He landed hard, stumbled, then activated his cloak, finally allowing himself to float. He took a moment to close his eyes and take a deep breath, before floating down the cave and opening the door. He slipped through, his breath stalling at the sight.

He was on a platform, an archway behind him, and in front of him was a massive clockwork tower, a walkway spiraling around it. It wasn’t a smooth tower, offshoots jutted off from it at various angles, and doors were pressed against the sides in various places. The walkway was lined with glowing blue orbs, and jumping from the tower to the rocks that floated around it was brilliant arcs of purple lightning, lingering far longer than any lightning should. He floated to the edge of his piece of rock and looked down. Nothingness, a misty grey haze that permeated the air. The tower continued down, and he could see the bottom of it, faintly, but beyond that was nothing but that graze haze.

Perfect.

He floated back a couple inches, gave the gem in his hand a couple light tosses, then held it firmly in his hand. “Halas,” he said, in an odd tone. It wasn’t the one he used with the Bright Queen or the Mighty Nein or Yussa. It wasn’t the one he’d used with the Assembly mages when he’d been helping them. No, it was the one he used on prisoners before interrogations, the one he used when talking to captured spies before the torture implements were brought out. It was the cold one, the distant one, both vaguely amused and vaguely curious. “Do you know why I brought you here, despite the dangers you present?” He didn’t give him time to answer. “It was because I thought you would be helpful. A navigator of sorts, but so far, you haven’t been very helpful have you?” He gave the gem another light toss, felt it smack against his palm. “I wonder what would happen if I tossed you off the edge of this island? Would you drop, or would the gravity of the tower pull you in? Perhaps you could tell me.”

A beat of silence, then Halas’ voice, slow and drawn out.  _ “This tower is my creation.”  _ He said, his zemnian accent thick and pronounced,  _ “This sphere is my creation. I spent most of my life shaping it, pulling the pieces together. There are more dangers and more rooms in this sphere then you could possibly imagine. You will get nowhere without me.” _

“Funny, I had a feeling you would say that.” And perhaps it was true, and perhaps it wasn’t. He’d seen the impossible done before, he’d done it. Stealing the Beacon was supposedly impossible. Ending a war that had been years in the making was supposed to be impossible. Finding Yussa here would be like finding a needle in a haystack, worse, one that moved around. But given time, Essek was certain he could manage. But he didn’t have time, which meant he didn’t have time to waste on Halas’ games. “Let me lay this out to you, Halas. You get nowhere without me. I could leave you here where you could never be found and go on my merry way. I could take you back and place you within your prison and leave you there for all eternity. You are helping me for a reason. I do not care what that reason is, but I do know that if you don’t stop playing games with me, I won’t give you the chance you need.” He reached out, held the gem loosely between his fingers, above the abyss. “What will it be, Halas? A chance, or none at all?”

The ruby glinted between his fingers, purple lights playing across the surface. He could almost imagine the face behind the surface looking at him in surprise and horror, waiting for him to break. But Essek was serious, and he would do it. He wasn’t a good person, better then he had been, yes, but that didn’t mean he was a paragon of excellence now. He focused on what he wanted, no matter what was in his way. Friends had changed that, just a bit, but the essence remained the same. It was why he was so good at his job. He locked onto his goal, and didn’t let go. And right now, his goal was finding Yussa. Halas didn’t factor as nothing but a tool.

And if a tool wasn’t useful, it was disposed of.

He sighed, “You’re going to be uncooperative, I see. Very well, I hope that the next group of adventures decides to leave you wherever you end up.” 

_ “Wait.”  _ A sharp word, anger breaking through it,  _ “400 ft down, there will be a silver door with an eye inscribed on the surface. That’s the one you’re looking for.” _

Essek gazed at the gem and smiled one of his small half smiles, “Lovely, I see that we understand each other.” He pulled the gem back from over the abyss, holding it steadily in his palms.

_ “Perfectly.” _


	22. Chapter Zweiundzwanzig

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, I would like to thank you all for your comments and kudos! I hope you like this next chapter and have a wonderful day!

_ “Dragon.”  _ The trees whispered, branches scraping together and leaves shifting with the wind.  _ “Dragon. I wonder why he is here? Probably looking for the master’s secrets. He will get nowhere. The door belongs to us. Perhaps he has been hired by the master? No. The master has been gone for too long, his bones are fertilizer for whatever he decided to die under. Tomb robber, a dragon tomb robber. Looking for pickings for his horde. I wonder what secrets he holds? Perhaps we will play a game, secret for secret, lies for truth. His bones will glint white beneath our roots.” _

Yussa chuckled softly, then wrote Whispering Trees beside his sketch on his map. He packed his things away and stood.  _ “I see how you treat visitors. Should I be scared and fly away? Or shall I burn your heartwood to ash?” _

For a moment, the wind stilled, then it picked up again, yanking at Yussa’s robes, tugging at his braid. The voices rose, wild and dangerous.  _ “It speaks. It speaks our tongue. Threatens us. How dare it. The dragon should watch it’s tongue, or we will rip it out and feed it to our charges. He will make a fine meal for the worms and grubs.” _

_ “My apologies,”  _ Yussa bowed,  _ “If I may inquire, how did you know I was a dragon?” _

_ “Your kind thinks to hide itself in mortal skin, but you can not be hidden. Wisdom is easily found, power easily spotted for those who have the means. We have those means. Our master had those means. You do not, blind thing, to threaten us so easily means that you are weak and useless, for all you wear a coat of scales. Shall we feast on your flesh and watch the crows pick at your eyes?” _

He straightened and watched the tree carefully.  _ “I’d rather you not. You mentioned a game, secret for secret, lies for truth. Are you interested in playing?” _

_ “If you lose, you are ours. The master risked his life many times, and succeeded more often than not. But the times he lost, he was ours for the day. We cracked his bones and drained his lifeblood. His screams filled the woods until we were forced to release him. He crawled back to his little home, nothing more than a bag of broken bones. Are you willing to wager that, dragon?” _

_ “Yes.”  _ There was no hesitation.

. . .

Essek landed on the walkway of the Tower, stumbling slightly before his cloak caught him. That had been the last of his fly spell. No he just had to go down, almost 350 ft more to go. He began his trek, ruby clutched tight in his hand. The wizard hadn’t spoken since Essek’s little persuasion tactic, and the silence between them lay heavy and sullen. The lights lining the walkway crackled violently blue, lightning played out past their radius, striking the floating rocks and streaking through the nothingness. The light jerked across the metal of the walkway, highlighting curves and throwing cracks into deep shadows. Somewhere out there, Yussa was travelling from room to room, probably making phenomenally idiotic choices just to distract himself from the real world. 

Some of Essek’s anger had abated now, leaving an odd sickness in its place. Worry. Yussa had been caught by the tower before, it was possible he could be caught again. Yussa was a dragon, and he was terrifyingly smart and wouldn’t be caught the same way twice, but Halas had spent years forming the traps of this place, who would win out? By the luxon, he hoped it would be Yussa.

Something clanged behind him, sharp and sudden, and he turned. He couldn’t see anything, the walkway disappeared behind the curve of the tower, but there had been something there. Metal against metal maybe, possibly a heavy footstep. “Halas,” he hissed, “what was that?”

_ “What was what? I can’t hear anything but you.” _

“Something just moved.” He turned and started down the curve of the tower, faster, hoping another one of those protrusions wouldn’t appear to mess up his escape. 

_ “There shouldn’t be anything in this place but you,”  _ Halas said, something sly and secretive in his voice,  _ “But the golems do patrol now and again. I suggest you run, there is no way to avoid them once they have your scent.” _

For a second, he almost called Halas a liar, but Halas wouldn’t get anywhere without him, and the other wizard knew that. He gained nothing from lying. Essek cursed and ran his hand down his robe, feeling the words for a spell drip past his lips. He floated faster, shooting down the walkway, hoping that he could keep ahead of the curve so this golem could not lay eyes on him.

  
  


. . .

_ “So, how is this game played?”  _ Yussa asked, sitting back down, watching the two intertwined trees carefully. He could see no faces in the bark, no mouths or eyes or noses. They’re voices were identical, blending together. The wind stilled for the faintest of moments, and the trees’ voices cut out.  _ “Come on,”  _ he said,  _ “if I am to play properly, I must know the rules, mustn't I?” _

The wind kicked up again, and the whispering began.  _ “Truth for lie. You tell us a truth. We tell you a lie. You tell a lie. We tell a truth. Secret exchanged for secrets. Five times this is repeated. If you gain more knowledge then we do, you walk free. If we gain more knowledge then you do, we claim you for the day.” _

A clever game, dangerous with the potential for vast rewards. How much knowledge had they collected over the years? He couldn’t wait to find out.  _ “And how do I know the difference between truth and lie?” _

_ “We know, the Master knew. We are bound by the rules of the game.”  _ The smaller tree’s root writhed and pulled back, revealing glyphs burned into the bark of the older. The roots shifted back to their original positions, clinging to the deep cracks in the elder’s bark.  _ “You first.” _

Yussa smiled, then pulled out his mystery component. He set it on the grass between the two of them, tracing the knots and curves of the metal with his fingers. It glinted gold and copper in the sunlight, gleaming against it’s bed of green. _ “This is part of the Tower Machine.”  _

Lie. He knew it was a lie, but still the feeling crawled across his skin, raising the hairs on his arms. Lie. Lie. Lie. So that was how the trees and Halas could tell, there must be some similar reaction to the truth. 

_ “It belongs to the Puzzle.”  _ Truth, a similar sensation as lie, but somehow warmer.  _ “You are being trailed by a golem.” _

Lie.  _ “I am a dragon.”  _ The trees’ leaves rustled furiously, the voice drowned out by the scrape of leaf against leaf. Yussa managed to keep his smile small and disinterested.  _ “I have come and others have followed.” _

Truth.

He blinked, his smile failing. That should have been a lie. He had come alone, and he was certain he hadn’t been here long enough to make Wensforth worry yet. Had the goblin freaked out and called someone here sooner? But who?

_ “Halas has many safe ways of traveling through the halls.”  _ Lie.  _ “Your path lies through the woods.”  _ Lie.

He smoothed his features.  _ “Halas is still alive.”  _ Truth.  _ “The path to the Puzzle does not lie beneath your roots.”  _ Lie.

_ “One path to the Puzzle lies in deep waters.”  _ Truth.  _ “Some golems no longer obey Halas’ directive.”  _ Secret.

_ “I am in love with a mortal.”  _ The words were pushed past his lips before he could stop them. Secret. It echoed in his mind as the words hung in the air. Shit. Shit. That was how the secret for secret mechanic worked then. Fuck. But he wasn’t in love, he couldn’t be. Essek was attractive, and Yussa was not going to allow himself to fall in love with him. But he had felt those words press against his lips.  _ “I’m in love with a mortal.”  _ He said again, feeling the words on his lips, the disbelief heavy in them. No. He wasn’t supposed to care. He wasn’t supposed to care!

Truth.

_ “There are many ways out of the sphere.”  _ Lie.  _ “You are winning.”  _ Lie.

Yussa narrowed his eyes. Focus, he had to focus.  _ “Any knowledge I can give you is useless because you will never leave.”  _ Truth.  _ “You are winning.”  _ Truth. He froze. The knowledge he’d been giving up was inconsequential at best. He should have been winning. 

The trees’ branches stilled, and something laughed, rolling through the earth and shaking the trees’ limbs.  _ “The game works like that.”  _ Truth.  _ “The Master was worse at this game then you.”  _ Lie.

Yussa pushed himself up, feeling the crackle under his skin, the thrum of his own power. He didn’t have time to waste on this tree, he had to find the Puzzle, and then he had to get out of here and find Essek. Or a place to hide for all eternity so the other wizard could not find him.  _ “You will burn.”  _

Truth.

. . .

Essek fled down the curve of the tower, fingers trailing across the metal as he did so. He could feel the power of the place, the metal trembled slightly at his touch, a constant vibration caused by magic and machinery. He’d been lucky so far, he hadn’t encountered any cogs or protrusions blocking the walkway, but that also meant his pursuer also had a straight shot down. He could hear the heavy footsteps, the clash of metal against metal. It shook the walkway with each stride, but so far Essek had managed to keep ahead of it. 

Caleb had told him in great detail about Halas’ golems. The anti magic cone, the collars. Essek had no intention to be caught in one's grasp. Alone, he would stand no chance. “Any hints?” He asked as he flew down, “If I get caught, you are never getting out.”

_ “They obey their creator,”  _ Halas said, nonchalant as Essek raced for his life.  _ “If I was in a real body, then I would be able to do something. But they can’t hear me as I am. You’re on your own.” _

Essek cursed. The footsteps were getting louder. He wasn’t fast enough, and this particular aspect of his cloak would only last a bit longer. Change of plans. He swerved, then jumped over the banister. He had what, 100 ft to go before reaching the door? Easy enough. He plummeted, wind whipping his cloak as he fell, the cloth fluttering with each pass. 100 ft down, each level was about 10 ft tall, he just had to plummet ten floors. Simple math. He slipped Halas into his pocket, he’d need both hands for this.

Down and down, tumbling turning, fingers ready for his spell. The floors flashed by, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, now. He cast his spell, the familiar chant for misty step passing through his lips. Then his feet hit metal and he crumpled to the ground. Not the seventh floor, but the tenth, thirty feet below the place where he’d been falling. He pushed himself back up, and floated forwards, around, around, there, a door. Silver, an eye engraved upon its surface. He pushed it open, and moved inside. 

The door shut behind him with a resounding bang.

Esseks took in a deep breath, feeling it rush through his lungs as his shoulders slumped in relief.

He was in a room, a circular room, covered rectangular crystal plates, each one revealing a different scene. They crawled up the walls, far beyond his head, fading into the distance. So many rooms, so many possibilities. He’d been right to pressure Halas into leading him here, there was no way he would have been able to find Yussa on his own. He fished out the ruby, held it tightly in his palm. “Will the golem follow me into this room?”

_ “No, it is not in their directive to go into this room.”  _

“Good.” He turned around, staring at the different plates, noticing that the door had disappeared. Very well, he would figure out how to get out of here after locating Yussa. He looked closer at the plates, staring at the images in their surfaces. The Garden. A swamp. A chamber with fleshy looking walls. The outside of the Tower, a hulking shape waiting at a door. Where to begin? He took a deep breath, and then peered at the plates directly next to him. He would just have to go through them one by one until he found the room Yussa was in. He tilted his head back, and winced. There must have been at least eighty plates, possibly more.

This was going to take a while.


	23. Chapter Dreiundzwanzig

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is so late you guys I'm sorry! But, and I hope this makes up for that, it's a longer chapter then normal! Plus a fight scene! Woohoo! Anyway, thank you all for your comments and kudos! Every one is a blessing. I hope you enjoy this chapter and have a wonderful day!

Yussa’s bones cracked and popped with the shift, scales splitting his skin open. Around him, the woods circling the glade woke, roots ripping out of the ground. The two intertwined trees dragged themselves from the earth, their voices echoing through the air.  _ “Dragon thinks we will burn for him. But he cannot escape the rules of the game. He is ours for the day.” _

Yussa finished his transformation, the change settling over his scales. He roared and flames ripped from his throat. They rolled over the intertwined trees, catching on leaves and settling on it’s bark. There was a screech of pain, high pitched, inhuman, then the flames died out. The grass in the clearing had burnt away to reveal the scorched earth beneath. The intertwined trees, however, were barely harmed. Their leaves had burnt away and their bark was blackened and charred, but their branches scraped together in a way that seemed horribly akin to laughter. 

_ “Stupid, blind creature.”  _ The branches rasped,  _ “Did you think we could not back up our claims? Truly, you are the blindest of all who have wandered into our grasp.” _

. . .

Essek levitated up another section, fingers skimming over the glass plates. There was a chamber made up of clockwork parts, there was a workshop for golem creation, there was a bedroom with fabric long filled with moth holes. Essek ground his teeth together. So far, there had been no sign of Yussa in any room the glass plates had shown him. It was galling, he was so close, yet so far from him. 

_ “Do you know what you’ll do when you find who you are looking for?”  _ Halas asked, his voice cold.

Essek restrained a growl. “That is none of your business, is it?” He floated up another section. Here was a room that looked like it had been flipped on its head. Here was a room that looked to be underwater. Here was the tower machine, a smudgy figure waiting outside a door that could only belong to the golem chasing him. 

_ “Do you even know how you’ll get to the person you’re looking for?” _

“Well,” Essek said, his voice cold and collected, “I assume that the plates must lead to the rooms they show. Mini portals if you will.”

Halas didn’t answer, and Essek floated up another level.

. . .

Yussa side stepped, his tail lashing out to smack one of the trees in the side. It went crashing into one of his brethren and he used the opportunity to twist his head and send fire spewing in their direction. These, the trees that had surrounded the grove, were easier to deal with then the original two. They were hanging back, laughing at his struggle. And he was struggling, every attack left him open, wood gouging and cracking his scales. 

He snapped his wings open, thrusting away two more trees as his claws raked against a third. He lunged forwards and bit it in half, the wood snapped and gouged the inside of his mouth. He yanked back, a screech of pain pushing past his throat, blood running from his mouth and over his scales. A tree, this one felt larger than the others, hit him in the side, and he stumbled, tail lashing for balance. Another leapt on it, rooted back into the ground, pinning it down. He attempted to pull it up, but pain shot through his wing. He screamed, twisting to look. A tree had shoved it’s branches through the thin membrane. Yussa cracked his jaw open and breathed again, ignoring the heat as it rushed over his scales, feeling the splinters stuck in his mouth turn to ash. He didn’t have time to finish that one off, he turned his head, spewing the flames everywhere. They danced in his vision, catching and taking, lighting up a dozen different opponents. Pain again, this time in his other wing, and his fire sputtered out to be replaced with another shriek of pain. 

The two trees that had started it all moved, their roots grabbing the ground and pulling them forwards.

Yussa bared his teeth as best as he could, then spoke in harsh draconic, the power building up in his bones before exploding out in a wave of flame. And for the briefest of moments, the world was filled with light and free of pain.

. . .

A room with fleshy walls and broken glass containers. A cave full of crystals of a dozen colors with shadows flashing between the clusters. A whole line of cells after cells after cells, some empty, others holding skeletons and partially rotted bodies. For a moment, he paused, eyes stuck on a glass plate. This one showed the body of a dragon, half decomposed, blue scales gleaming dully.

Essek sucked in a deep breath and tore his eyes away from the sight. He continued on his path up, fingers gripped painfully around Halas’s gem.   
  


. . .

Yussa pushed himself to his feet, blood running from his scales. Around him, most of the trees had been disintegrated, ash blown away by the wind, but a few still stumbled around even as they collapsed. The intertwined trees still stood relatively unharmed, embers glowing in their bark.  _ “Perhaps,”  _ they said,  _ “we gave you too little credit dragon. But you are ours. We will not let you go.”  _ They detached from each other, roots pulling out of bark and limbs untwining. Yussa sucked in a deep breath, then let it out with a burst of flame. The fire rolled out to cover the scorched field, flickering bright in his eyesight. The trees screamed, two discordant voices, then the larger one cut through the flames, one of it’s branches slamming into his lower jaw. His flames cut off as his jaws snapped painfully shut, and he lashed out with his claws. They scraped against wood and splinters caught in underneath them, mere annoyances compared to his other injuries.

Something climbed onto his wing, and he tried to jerk his head around to snap at it, but branches wrapped around his neck, curling around his muzzle. He lashed out with his claws again, wings flapping wildly as roots wrapped around his forelegs. The thing, the younger tree, was crawling onto his shoulder, thin roots slipping between his scale. He felt numbness spread at the contact, and his wing went limp. He struggled, falling back, hoping to crush the tree clinging to him. There was a harsh cry at the impact, and he dug his hind legs into the tree keeping him constrained, kicking and racking with all his might. The roots began to loosen, and he cracked his jaw open, heat building up in the back of his throat. This close, the tree would not survive the blast, no matter how strong it was.

Then something cold slipped against the back of his neck, the slightest prick of pain before his whole body locked up and his fire died in his throat.

. . .

Essek moved faster as he searched through the glass plates. Room after room flashed by, he no longer spent time staring at the individual plates, only spent a few seconds looking for something moving within. He had more false leads then real ones, golems walking through rooms and shifting trees and moving beast. But no Yussa. 

Something flashed in his vision, a light that burst then died away. Essek jerked his head up, where had that come from? He levitated up, looking around wildly. Nothing, nothing, there! Flames, the flash of golden scales. Essek stared at the sight, it was Yussa, Yussa as a golden dragon, and he was fighting. His body was being wrapped in roots and branches, but he still struggled, falling onto his back and raking with his free legs. He managed to get his jaws open, Essek could see the glow of flames between his teeth, burning bright in the gaps. He was going to make it, he was going to burn that tree to ash and he was going to live. Then Yussa’s body locked up, his flames dying away. 

“YUSSA!” Essek felt the name yanked from his lips, but it couldn’t be his voice. He wasn’t the type to scream out someone's name no matter the situation. But panic was hot in his throat, sluicing through his limbs. He pressed his hand against the glass plate and pushed as if it would let him through. It stayed hard beneath his fingertips, cool and smooth to the touch. “Halas,” he gritted out, his composure gone, “How do you move through to the other rooms?”

_ “Oh, did you find who you were looking for?” _ Halas’ voice was light and smug, as if he hadn’t just heard Essek scream Yussa’s name.

“Yes I did, and you know what will happen to you if you don’t tell me how to get through the glass.” On screen, the large tree was hauling Yussa’s prone form off his back. Clinging to his shoulders and neck was another tree, smaller and thinner, with its roots buried between his scales. “So tell me.”   
_ “Very well. There’s a set of runes behind the glass plate, they activate a teleport that will take you to a set location in the room.” _

“Good.” Essek moved his hand from the surface of the plate and felt around the edges. There, a crack. He slipped his fingers in, he could feel the runes engraved in the surface. They activated at his touch, flashing cold beneath his fingers. Then he was sent spiraling through dizzy nothingness before appearing on a scorched and blackened field.

. . .

Yussa’s vision was fuzzy, black spots dancing to cover everything in his sight. But it still wasn’t enough to cover the flash of light and the figure within. White hair, dark skin, silver eyes, a cloak that flashed silver and gold and dark. Essek, it had to be, and Yussa wanted to roar at him. Roar at him to get back, to ask what he was doing here, why he had followed him. But he couldn’t move, not right now. He needed more time to break out of the paralysis. But the few moments the trees had had, they’d taken full advantage of. Their roots had dug under his scales and pushed into his skin. He could feel them taking his life, and odd drain, a weakness that the paralysis could not attribute too. But they stiffened when Essek appeared, their voices distorted in Yussa’s ears.  _ “Another plaything. Look at him. Halas’ kind. He thinks he can stop us. He will feed us as well.” _

Essek floated forwards, putting something into his pocket and pulling out a crystal prism. He held it up, light reflecting a dozen colors off it’s surface, and began to speak. Words rushed past his lips, and the prism floated out of his hand, spinning, spinning, before flashing wildly. Something cracked, Yussa could hear it, and then the tree holding him began screaming, loud and painful, as if it was being ripped into pieces. It disappeared, reappearing around thirty feet away, crashing painfully against the ground with more force than could be explained with just a teleport. It wailed like a terrified child before disappearing again. 

The tree clinging to his back pulled away slightly, it’s limbs rustling a surprised  _ “What?”  _ Yussa took the opportunity to shrug off the paralysis, twisting his head around to snap at the tree. He managed to sink his teeth into its trunk and pulled hard. It ripped from his scales with a horrible sucking noise, and Yussa managed to resist screaming as pain flooded his body. He tossed the tree away from him, sucking in a breath for one last torrent of fire. It caught the tree mid air, blackening wood that had managed to stay uncharted, burning away smaller twigs and thicker branches. It crashed against the ground before skittering back up, hunched and broken, looking small and lost without its partner. It still wasn’t as damaged as it should have been, some roots and branches remained, enough to where it could push itself back up. 

Then a small seed of blackness appeared behind it’s form, swiftly growing wider and wider, with trails of darkness splitting off before being drawn back. The tree screamed, tried to move forwards, but it was yanked back. Yussa watched as it was drawn into the sphere, the blackness swallowing it for a few seconds before winking out. What was left of the tree was a small compressed ball of charred wood and ash.

The older tree appeared again, this time with frost blooming across it’s bark, a terrified scream still rising from its form. Yussa lunged and bit it in half, and this time there was almost no resistance. The screaming ended, and the two halves fell to the ground with a thump. 

Yussa turned to stare at Essek. The drow was putting his prism away, eyes hard and cold. Yussa shifted, ignoring the cracks of pain as his bones split and shrunk, the burst of agony as his scales pushed beneath his skin and his wounds stretched and shrunk to fit his elven form. He wavered on his feet when he finished, the ground around him splattered and soaked with his blood, his clothes rapidly staining with the color. “Essek.” He breathed. 

The last time he’d seen the elf, Essek had still been reeling from Yussa’s impulsive kiss. He looked different now. His skin shimmered slightly, but most of his makeup had been ruined by whatever he had encountered on his own journey through the Archmage’s Bane. His cloak was at its most somber, but still flashed and shimmered in a very distracting way. He didn’t wear a lot of jewelry, but his earrings were ornate and the necklace he wore was just different enough from his silver mantle to be eye catching. His white hair was in disarray, falling over his forehead in tangled curls. His silver eyes flashed in the light, red pupils shining like pools of blood. 

“Yussa.”

And there were a dozen emotions in that single word that Yussa, for all his years of experience, could not hope to comprehend. He didn’t even know what he should do himself. He had left to avoid Essek, and now the drow was here, and Yussa did not have the strength to run.

Essek began to float forwards, and Yussa flinched back. Essek stopped before him, so close that his scent washed over Yussa, and he couldn’t stop himself from taking a deep breath and swaying closer. Essek’s fingers landed on his jaw, featherlight, his silver and red eyes trailing over Yussa before landing on his face. “You’re bleeding.” 

Yussa blinked, taking in the tuck of Essek’s mouth, the slight furrow between his brows. He wanted to smooth it away, to make him smile once again. To make him laugh, to lose control of his carefully fabricated mask. “You’re here,” he forced out instead.

Essek’s lips twitched faintly, and Yussa was caught by the sight. “Did you think I would not come? There are a great many things we need to talk about.”

Yussa flinched. He was in love with a mortal. He was in love with Essek. Hadn’t the trees ripped out that truth from him? But it couldn’t be, it shouldn’t be. He had tried so hard, and yet here Essek was. In front of him. Impossibly shiny, impossibly dangerous, impossibly beautiful. “I would prefer not too.”

Essek laughed softly, “Oh Yussa, I’m not giving you a choice.” Then his lips were pressed against Yussa’s own, hard, insistent, and all too real. He wasn’t going anywhere, and Yussa was too injured to run away from something he wanted too much to be safe. So he gave in, leaning forwards, and kissing Essek back with as much fervor as he could muster when he was half dead and bleeding all over the ground. 


	24. Chapter Vierundzwanzig

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I would like to thank you all from the bottom of my heart for all your comments and kudos. The response from last chapter was absolutely tremendous and I'm so happy you enjoyed it. I hope you enjoy this chapter as well and have a wonderful new year!

Gently, Essek pulled back, gasping for breath. Yussa followed him, eyes glowing, a growl resonating from his lips. Essek gripped Yussa’s hair and robe tighter, “Stop. You’re bleeding, you’re going to pass out at this rate.”

Yussa made another half growl, leaning forwards again. “Forget bleeding. Forget talking.” His eyes were too bright, inhumanly so. Essek couldn’t think, couldn’t - Yussa’s lips against his jaw, fingers trailing against his throat.

Bleeding. He had to remember Yussa was bleeding. But . . . perhaps the wounds weren’t all that bad? Wait, no focus. He had to focus. “Yussa,” he gasped out, “I am still very much pissed at you, so if you don’t stop this instant I’ll, uh, do something. By the Luxan you’re half dead! Please let me look at your wounds.” Yussa froze, and Essek untangled his hands from his hair and robe. “Don’t make me poke them.”

Yussa growled against his neck and pulled back. “Fine. But we are continuing this.”

Essek shivered at the feeling of the growl against his skin. Strong, he had to be strong. “After we talk,” Yussa flinched, “and after we get out of here.” Another flinch, and Essek sighed. “We’ll have to use your robe to bandage up the wounds, I didn’t bring a med kit and I don’t think you did either.” 

Yussa sighed, “Very well,” he pulled back fully, and Essek felt the loss like the loss of a limb. Yussa reached up to undo the clasps on his robe and winced.

Essek forced down a sigh and ignored the shake of his limbs. “Sit down,” he said softly, “I’ll get it for you.”

. . .

Yussa fought to ignore the feeling of Essek’s hands on his skin as he bandaged his wounds, the softness of his fingers, the presence at his back. But it was impossible, all the more so now that he had given up fighting. He leaned in to the touch, wrestling with the urge to turn around and grab him and drag him down for another kiss. Or two. Or more. He gritted his teeth and locked his fingers together instead. 

“Yussa,” Essek said softly, and Yussa fought back the shudder that came with his name, “what are you planning to do now? Are you going to flee from me again?”

Yussa groaned, reaching up to massage his temples. “No,” he grumbled, “I’m not.”

“Good. Because I have a lot I need to say to you,” Essek sighed, his fingers landing on Yussa’s shoulder. Yussa turned his head to stare at Essek’s hand, dark against his tan shoulder. “Are you ready?”

“No.”

“Too bad.” He flexed his fingers and sighed. “Yussa, you are perhaps one of the most confounding people I have ever met. You are so intelligent, yet you panic the minute feelings get mixed in. I must admit, I am not much better. But you cannot run from this, you cannot hide from it. I know, I’ve tried before, and instead I got embroiled with the Might Nein’s shenanigans and could not find my way out. I did not want to find my way out.” He breathed in deeply. “You are undeniably attractive, undeniably mysterious, and I thought that was all. You offered a challenge, and I wanted that challenge, so I took it. This started out as a favor for a friend, but it is so much more now.” He moved his hand to Yussa’s chin, tilting his head back so they could look each other in the eyes. His silver eyes were gentle, the red shining within like rubies caught in crystal. “I am afraid, Yussa Errenis, that I have fallen in love with you. I have no clue how a relationship would work in a situation like ours, but I would like to try. I would like to try with you.”

. . .

Essek waited with baited breath. Yussa’s eyes were very wide, mouth slightly parted. Ash and blood smeared his mouth, dotting his neck and coating his back and chest. Essek had cleaned most of it off, but it still coated his warm skin, and the sight made Essek’s heartache. Yussa licked his lips. “Essek . . .” He breathed, lingering on Essek’s name in a way that sent shivers up and down his spine. “I -” He closed his eyes, “I cannot be what you want me to be.” He laughed, something very soft, “I’ve seen too many die. I can’t . . . I can’t lose you too.”

Essek sucked in another deep breath, “Yussa, I’m not asking you to change anything about yourself. I wouldn’t want that. And you haven’t lost me.” He closed his eyes and dropped his head so his forehead touched Yussa’s. The dragon’s skin was warm against his own. “You already care. I know you do. It’s not just me, is it?”

“No,” Yussa’s voice was a tangled rasp, “it’s not. I shouldn’t care.”

“But you do.”

“I do.” Yussa sighed, and Essek opened his eyes and pulled back to stare into Yussa’s gold orbs. “I care too much. It is too late for me.”

Essek laughed, “You sound as if you’ve caught a disease.” 

Yussa chuckled softly, “I guess I do, don’t I?” He closed his eyes, “I don’t know what to do,” he said softly, “I haven’t felt like this is a long time.”

Essek leaned forwards and pressed a kiss to Yussa’s nose. The dragon made a disgruntled noise, and Essek smiled softly. “I’m not sorry.”

Yussa’s lip twitched. “I hope not.”

Essek pushed away, gliding over the ground. He’d been too focused on Yussa before, and now the extent of the damage dealt to the surrounding area finally clicked in his mind. It was a burnt wasteland, dirt turned grey and black with ash and charcoal. There were a few stumps, a few charred remains, but most of Yussa’s opponents had been burned away, except for the one Essek had crushed and the one Yussa had bit in half. A little bit away, half buried by remnants of fire, a wooden door with an iron handle could just be seen. Great. A distraction sitting right there for Yussa to find. He’d have to do his best to pull Yussa’s attention away from it.

Yussa stood, stretching. His golden clothes had been ripped, wrapping his chest and back and arms, in some places already darkened by blood. His dragon form had been a mangled mess, but somehow his human form looked worse. Essek didn’t understand how Yussa managed to stay on his feet. Dragon constitution he supposed. He wondered what else that dragon constitution would be good for.

“You’re staring,” Yussa purred, his voice warm.

Essek smirked at him, “You’re showing off.”

Yussa’s lips flicked up, eyes brightening in delight. “You came for me.”

“I did.”

He chuckled. “I don’t know if that’s the stupidest or bravest thing someone's ever done for me.”

“You ran.” Essek pointed out, his voice just a touch sharp. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten that. You ran. From me. After you kissed me.” Yussa winced, and Essek sighed. “But we can talk about this in more comfortable surroundings. Come on, it’s time to go.”

. . .

“We can have the talk now.” Yussa offered, ignoring the time to go. Essek was here, Essek was here with him, why did they have to leave so soon? They could explore this place together, unravel the mysteries in Halas' Halls hand in hand. It was an appealing idea, much better than going back to his tower and allowing Essek to chew him out.

Essek gave him a look. “Yussa,” he said in a voice tinged with exasperation, “You can’t possibly be thinking of continuing your explorations of this place. You nearly died.”

Yussa glanced over to where the door to the Puzzle lied. He’d seen it while Essek had bandaged his wounds, and it’s very existence pulled at him. It led to the Puzzle, but how long would it take to get there? He didn’t know. He didn’t know, he didn’t know and the need to know was itching underneath his scales. Just a little bit further, what could it hurt? “I didn’t die though,” He said softly, leaning towards the door.

Essek grabbed his jaw, twisting his face towards his. His eyes were fierce, blazing silver. “Do you know how long I have spent looking for you, Yussa? Too long, both in here, and in the outside world. Wensforth might call the Mighty Nein next, and then where will you be? I’m not going to let you throw your life away for curiosity's sake.” Essek’s next words were very quiet and soft, like silk hiding a blade. “And I am not above knocking you out and dragging you out of here.”

Yussa shivered slightly at that. Was it sad that Essek’s glare and voice made him think of other things then threats? Yes, it was. It was indeed. “But do you see any other doors? The only way is forwards.”

Essek raised an eyebrow. “You had to come here some way.”

Yussa glanced around, raking his gaze over the barren wasteland that was left from his battle. “I think my door burned down.”

Essek sighed, heavily. “Fine. Forwards it is.” He let go of Yussa’s jaw, fingers trailing against his skin before disappearing. “But our main objective is getting out of here. And I’m opening the door.”

Yussa smiled, eagerness rolling through his bones. “Very well then. And if we just happen to stumble upon -”

“No.” Essek said, floating over to the door and reaching out. “Absolutely not.” He swung open the door and the wood thudded heavily against the ground. Ash plumed up at the impact, coating the bottom of Essek’s robes. “We are headed back to your tower. Come on.” Then he stepped through and was gone.

Yussa allowed himself a wide, beaming grin, then walked over and dropped through the entrance as well.


	25. Chapter Fünfundzwanzig

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your comments and kudos! I appreciate them immensely. Hope you enjoy this chapter and have a wonderful day!

The door opened up into nothing, and for the briefest moment, Essek hung suspended in the air, then he plummeted, wind whipping at his clothes. The darkness rushed around him, but darkness was no problem for him. He could see the faint outlines of gears and cogs, the soft glint of metal. Then Essek could see Yussa's form as he stepped through the door and hit nothing but air. 

Essek crossed his arms. “I have spent so many spells getting to your side, you can deal with this.”

Yussa’s eyes flashed gold. “I suppose I could.” His teeth glinted in a quick smile, his voice filled the air, all rolling draconic. Essek felt the spell grab him. His descent slowed, he drifted to the ground until he floated a couple inches of the floor. Yussa landed beside him. The thud of his boots against stone echoed through the room. “See, isn’t this exciting?”

Essek glanced at Yussa’s gleaming eyes and eager smile and fought back his own. “I am tired of excitement, I want to rest. And I refuse to do so here.” He glanced around. The walls really were lined with cogs and gears, brass and gold and copper if he was correct. The floor was stone and covered in whirling designs. It was a circular chamber, with high walls reaching beyond even his darksight. There were no doors.

Certainly a puzzle. Or a dead end.

Essek’s hand drifted down to his pocket, where Halas’ ruby waited. No doubt he knew the way out, but if Essek used him, what were the chances he’d be able to pull whatever he was planning? He wasn’t going to give him that opportunity. He pulled his hand away from his pocket and instead folded his fingers in front of him. “So, Yussa, do you know where your artifact goes?”

Yussa hmmed thoughtfully, bringing the sphere out. Like the rest of the room, it glinted gold and copper, the smooth surface interrupted by knots and knobs and curves. Less like a sphere, more like a tangled ball of rolled up chain. Yussa tossed it lightly, it smacked against his palm. “I have no clue.” He said simply, sending a delighted smile in Esseks direction. “I suspect that solving the Puzzle will open a door, or perhaps have some other effect on the tower.”

Essek huffed slightly, shaking his head. “I guess we better start looking then.” 

He turned and floated towards one side of the tower, reaching out to run his fingers over the metal. It was cold against his skin, and there was an odd texture to it, not smooth, but not bumpy either. A roughness that made him think of sandstone instead of metal. He stared between the gaps in the cogs, nothing but darkness lay beyond. There was no obvious place for Yussa’s knot of twisted metal, no gap to put it in, no alcove big enough to hide it. The trick must be hidden somewhere else. He sighed and let his gaze play over the floor. Perhaps there was a dip, or a button that raised a platform. Something hidden from plain view.

He felt his blood stir slightly. The challenge was alluring. Yussa, on the other side of the room running his hands over the wall, caught his eye and smiled again. In that moment, Essek didn’t notice the bandages that were bleeding through, or the smears of dirt and mud, his torn clothing and disarrayed hair. Just his gleaming eyes and his happy grin, and something lit within him.

Perhaps this wasn’t so bad after all.

. . .

Yussa was, despite the pain in his wounds and the exhaustion clinging to his form, content. No, not just content, happy. He was happy with Essek near him, working on this puzzle with him. It showed him of a future of what could be, the two of them, side by side, discovering the mysteries of the arcane and creating spells together. He could imagine it now, the comfort of his tower, the murmur of Essek’s voice, the glint in his silver and red eyes, with Wensforth occasionally popping in to check how they were doing. They could curl up in the library together, reading books and commenting theories. Essek could tell him all about his work and his country's culture, and Yussa could tell him of all he had experienced in the past. It would be . . . domestic.

Domestic. Such an odd word, but it made heat curl pleasantly in his chest. Domestic. He liked that.

Yussa glanced back at Essek. He floated over the ground, his robes glittering softly, white brows furrowed and his hand on his chin as he gazed at the patterns. Yussa swallowed thickly. “Find anything?” He murmured, stepping away from the wall. This was good too, to have Essek by his side. It made his blood sing. Forget the tower, they could make their home here.

Essek held his hand out. “May I see it?”

Yussa walked over and placed it in his hands. Essek held it above his face, twisting it slightly in front of him. “Have you heard of a gordian knot?”

Yussa stuck his head on Essek’s shoulder and looked at the sphere, no, it was most definitely a knot. Hmmm, maybe he had needed a new perspective this whole time. “I have. What are you thinking?”

Essek glanced at him, eyes shining. He gestured at the whirling designs decorating the floor. “They’re recessed,” He said softly, “Think this will go in it?”

“Once it’s undone, quite possibly.” Yussa reached out to trace the knot with his fingers, “Two different metals means we probably have two different groves they’re supposed to be placed in. We’ll have to figure out the correct ones.”

Essek chuckled softly. “The copper goes to the copper gears and the gold goes to the gold gears.”

“And what connects the brass gears?” Yussa pressed, turned his head to press his lips against Essek’s cheek. “I highly doubt it will be this easy.”

Essek flushed. “Of course it won’t be. But for now it is the only thing we have to go on. Unless,” he raised an eyebrow, “you have another guess?”

Yussa sighed. “Such a shame that I don’t. I guess we’ll have to unknot this then.” He took the knot from Essek’s hands and gave it a light toss. “In legend, the gordian knot was cut apart, not untangled. The question is where shall we cut?”

Essek turned slightly, his shoulder bumping against Yussa’s chest. He ran a finger over the curves, “The metal changes from gold to copper here.” He murmured softly, “That should be where we cut.”

“Very well.” Yussa stepped away, peering closely at the section. There was a definite change, he could see the small weld marks. Good. It was metal, and should be easy enough to snap. For him at least. He glanced at Essek from between his eyelashes. Essek was watching him with slightly quirked lips and vaguely amused eyes. Yussa smirked right back at him, “Do you have a knife? It might make this a bit easier.”

Essek’s lips twitched. “I might.” He reached into his robe and pulled out a slim blade, passing it over. Yussa took it carefully. He placed the blade where gold and copper met, then pushed.

. . .

The snap that echoed through the air was almost painfully loud, and it broke through Essek’s fantasy easily. Their explorations of Halas’ Hall’s could not last, they had to get out. Sooner rather than later. He had a job, a life outside these towers, he refused to allow himself to fall into such a pleasant delusion again. He had to stay focused. 

Yussa unraveled the gordian knot, pulling the metal wires apart with apparent ease, the muscles in his arms flexing. Essek watched him, hands laced in front of him, thoughts whirring in his mind. Perhaps he really should ask Halas’ help. They could be wandering around for a long time without it. Was his help worth the risk? And Yussa didn’t know about Halas, although no doubt he would eventually find out, so Essek should tell him. Probably.

Finally, the knot was unraveled, and now Essek could see the different shades of metal, gold, then brass, then copper. So the brass had been hidden inside the knot. Hmm . . . Yussa was right, it seemed too easy. There had to be another trick to it. So what was the trick?

Yussa glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. “Too easy.” He said.

Essek nodded. “Too easy.” He could ask Halas, but he doubted the ruby would reply. “But we should finish separating the metals anyway.” 

Yussa hummed, then pulled Essek’s knife from his belt. “Hold this for me, will you?”

“Very well,” Essek floated over and grabbed the wire, one hand on the gold portion, on hand on the brass. He hissed, arms dipping with the weight. By the Luxan it was heavy. Still, he tried to hold steady as Yussa pressed the blade against the junction. Was it imagination, or was the wires warm to the touch? Warmer then they had been previously, at least.

The wire snapped, Essek’s hands jerked. He bit back a curse, letting the gold fall to the floor. “Are you okay?” Yussa murmured, hand reaching out to take Essek’s free hand in his own. It was very nice, but Essek was not going to be distracted. He was not.

“I’m fine.” He said, a bit briskly. He pulled his hand out of Yussa’s moved his grip so one hand held brass and the other held copper. It really was warmer in his grip now, not painful to the touch, but warmer than it should have been. Something was happening. He nodded to Yussa, watched the dragon place the knife against the junction and press.

This time Essek let go just as the blade snapped through the metal. There was a flash of light, he was thrown back. He impacted the wall hard, light burst through his vision as he fell to the floor. A grinding noise filled the air, and he twisted as sparks spat up between the junction of wall and floor. The floor was moving. Dropping. He saw Yussa stumble, knees hitting the floor. The wires were moving, along the floor, along the whirls, forming shapes he could almost make out. A flash of color, colder than the metals of the room. The wires stopped moving, they filled the grooves in the floor, then the floor jerked to a screeching halt. The gears on the walls were gone, they were smooth metal now, streaked slightly. There were four arches, each one recessed into the wall, a notch of darkness beyond.    
Esske brushed himself off. “That was unexpected.”

Yussa pushed himself up. “I think,” He said thoughtfully. “I am going to rename this chamber the Transport chamber.”

Essek glanced around the room. “Yes, that might be wise. So, which one shall we go through?” 

Yussa grinned at him, “We’ll just have to see, won’t we?” He started moving towards one of the doors. Essek reached out, hand flitting towards his pocket, mouth opening to protest, but he was too late. Yussa was already gone.

. . .

The door, this time, did not open up above a drop. No, this time there was a ledge before the drop. Yussa reached out to press his hand against the stone wall behind him. It was rough and wet beneath his fingers. Before him, a chasm yawned, an endless hole with no bottom that he could see. Dimly, he could make out the other side, the bumpy stone, a slot of darkness that might have been another doorway. Cold air rushed at him. He could taste the damp on his tongue.

Essek appeared, his brows furrowed, a from on his face. He gave a cursory glance around the room. His red pupils had expanded, flashing red in the darkness. His jewelry caught what little light there was, glinting with each movement of his head. “Delightful.” He said sharply. “We’re trying to get out, Yussa, not go further in.”

Yussa tossed an excited smile his way. “For all we know, this could be the way out.”

Essek lifted his head slightly, his hand dipping towards the side of his robes. Yussa’s smile disappeared as Essek pulled something that flashed fire in the darkness out. “No, I can most assuredly say that it is not.”

For a moment Yussa didn’t understand. He stared uncomprehending at the multifaceted ruby. It shimmered in Essek’s palm, bright against the dark of his skin. A ruby. A ruby. Yussa blinked sharply, took a step back. “Essek, you didn’t.” 

Essek tucked the ruby away again. “Yussa,” he said calmly, as if he hadn’t brought Halas back into these Hall’s, where he could do an insurmountable amount of damage. “How did you expect me to find you? These Halls are too large for me to just run around willy nilly and hope to encounter you. I had to have a guide of some kind.”

“But Halas? Really?” Yussa reached out to steady himself. His hand hit air, the other flexed against rock.

Essek gave him a look. “Who else would I have asked? And before you say anything, I do know the dangers. However, I also refuse to let you run around in here, with the high potential you could be trapped or killed.”

Yussa scoffed. “I wouldn’t do that.”

“It’s happened once before.” Essek said softly. “Has it not?”

Yussa glanced away, towards the slash of darkness beyond the void. He didn’t say anything.

“You can’t live your life in here.” Essek said softly, “No matter how tempting the prospect. You have people outside that care for you, rely on you. You cannot leave them behind just for the sake of knowledge. Trust me Yussa,” for a moment his voice shook, and Yussa jerked his gaze over. Essek was no longer looking at him. He stared at his hands, his face almost haunted. “I know what price knowledge can bring, what happens when you throw everything away for the sake of curiosity. Don’t do that to yourself. Don’t do that to the people around you. Don’t . . . don’t do that to me.” He glanced up. “Please. I would prefer to not have to drag you out of here unconscious.”

The air hung still between them. Yussa could hear Essek’s breathing, twinned with his own. There was something in Essek’s voice he didn’t like, a thread of guilt that ran through it like dark silk. He sucked in a deep breath and stepped forwards, resting his hands on Essek’s shoulders. He peered into his eyes, the experience that shone through his silver irises and red pupils. Yussa leaned forwards and pressed a kiss to the corner of Essek’s mouth. “Okay,” he murmured softly, “Let’s go.”


End file.
